


Flirting 101 with Winifred Burkle

by Fitzsimmons_Forever



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Episode: s05e12 You're Welcome, Episode: s05e13 Why We Fight, Episode: s05e14 Smile Time, Episode: s05e15 A Hole In The World, Eventual Canon Divergence, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fred POV, Frustration, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Wesley, Surprise Kissing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, shippers on deck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzsimmons_Forever/pseuds/Fitzsimmons_Forever
Summary: What was it that drove Fred to be so blatant with Wesley when they were investigating Smile Time? Short answer: A long sequence of failed attempts to get him to notice how she felt more subtly... and not so subtly. For the long answer, read on...





	1. Lesson One: Flirting in Bars

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about how Fred tried to get Wesley to realise how she felt, before she decided it was a lot easier to just kiss him and get it over with! Feedback is very appreciated, and I hope you all enjoy this! I'm planning to stick up two chapters every week, so this will all be up pretty fast.

I shot a subtle glance to my right and felt butterflies swirling in my stomach. Which was a ridiculous reaction. Absurd, really. Because it wasn’t like I expected Wesley to be any _less_ handsome than he’d been in that elevator. Or on the walk over here to this bar. Or when he’d asked me idly what I was ordering and I’d stammered for a whole five seconds before asking him to order me something nice. It was absurd. Because I’d known Wesley for years and I’d never been incapable of being around him without acting all silly.

 

And now I was. It wasn’t even like he was doing anything especially captivating, like a tense piece of spell-work bathed in a fiery light that had lit up his face in _just_ the right way (because that had been upstairs in his office twenty minutes ago): he was just sipping his scotch. Blue eyes soft and thoughtful, fixed on the middle distance, elegant fingers tapping on his glass, mouth curled into—

 

And there were the butterflies again. I focused on my own drink - a fruity-looking concoction with an umbrella - and sipped it. Fruity. Zingy. It was actually kind of amazing. I took another sip and tried to work out my logical course of action. Because my previous strategy of trying to ignore my feelings for Wesley - while also ignoring that I was ignoring them - had clearly failed. If I was honest, it had failed long before now. I should have known it was failing when I daydreamed about him when I was meant to be writing lab reports, or wondered what he would say when a particularly fascinating scientific theory bore fruit. But that would have been way too simple, logical and easy. So instead, I’d hid from my feelings.

 

Like a dumbass. And now I was sitting next to him in a bar after a crazy busy day, having finally realised that hiding from my feelings for Wesley was never going to make them go away, or even make them less intense. Because having been cold turkey on Wesley for so long, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop admiring his intellect, his dedication, his wit, his kindness… every little thing about him (even tiny, silly things like how he put too much honey in his tea or staunchly refused to ever use the ‘Americanised’ variants of certain words). I wasn’t going to forget how well we fit together. How perfectly he understood me, right down to ordering me this _amazing_ drink. And if I couldn’t hide from my feelings any more - which I obviously couldn’t - then I only had one option.

 

I was going to have to flirt.

 

I felt myself flush slightly red at the thought of my previous experiences with flirting. I’d never been any good at it: I’d always been much better at blushing, stammering, giggling and generally making a fool of myself when other people flirted at me. And I’d certainly never flirted with Wesley. Because first I hadn’t recognised his feelings, then I hadn’t recognised my own, and then I’d been trying to ignore my own feelings - and failing miserably - while trying to deal with how impossibly attractive he was. But if I wanted to be with Wesley - which I desperately wanted - then I had to let him know I was interested. And there was no way he was going to be the first to flirt (first flirter?) after the barrage of mixed signals I’d put out over the last couple of months.

 

I tried to quickly run through everything I knew about flirting. Step one: make sure nobody else is there to overhear you. I glanced around the room: fortunately, I’d been successful in guiding Wesley over to the bar when we’d got here, while everyone else went to the tables, which reminded me of how warm Wesley’s hand had been when I’d took it and tugged him over here, feeling sparks racing across my entire body and dammit, there were the butterflies again.

 

But we were alone. That was good. That was great. Alright. The good news was that - despite what my stomach’s gymnastics routine was telling me - flirting with Wesley should be easy. Right? A few compliments, a couple of not-so-subtle shy glances and eyelash batting, some soft hand touches, a mention of dinner… Wesley would instantly understand what I was doing, because he _always_ understood me, and he’d reciprocate because I knew how he felt about me (and why, _why_ had I hid for so long from someone so wonderful who cared for me so deeply, so obviously, so desperately?) and then it would all be so easy. And blissful. A lovely romantic dinner… was I dressed well enough for a romantic dinner? I glanced down at myself: a nice blouse, a cute little skirt, necklace and nice shoes. I was dressed well enough. I hoped.

 

Why was I panicking? This should be easy! I loved Wesley, Wesley loved me, we knew each other impossibly well, all I had to do was start flirting and it would be perfect. A cute little romantic dinner, Wesley being chivalrous, just the two of us talking and then afterwards… I shut my eyes for a second, smiling as I let myself imagine Wesley moving closer to me, leaning down, eyes intense and kissing me. I shivered pleasantly at the thought. It was going to be so wonderful, just me and him, kissing and-

 

“It would certainly be nice.” Wesley mused, sipping his scotch.

 

I froze on my barstool. Because when I was thinking I had a tendency to talk out loud. Had I been talking about it? About my feelings and fantasies? I felt myself flush bright red and turned to face Wesley… who was thankfully not looking at me and showed no sign that I’d just confessed my love to him. Okay. This was fine. Everything was fine. I just had to start talking - I’d talked to Wesley loads before - and flirt a little. Then it would all be peachy.

 

“What would be nice?” I swivelled to face Wesley, sipping my drink.

“Having an arch-nemesis.” Wesley swirled his drink thoughtfully. I frowned. Wesley turned to face me and kept talking, eyes animated. “Fred, Angel gets all the arch-nemeses! Darla, Holtz, Lindsey… daring quests for revenge, epic battles, skirmishes of wit and willpower. Don’t we deserve arch-nemeses of our own?”

 

“Definitely.” I nodded, smiling thoughtfully. “We’re cool enough to have arch-nemeses.”

“Precisely!” Wesley nodded and smiled eagerly. “But where are we supposed to find suitable candidates?”

“We work for an evil company?” I suggested. “Surely somebody here must be arch-nemesis material.”

“One person springs to mind.” Wesley muttered darkly, eyes momentarily narrowing. I wonder who’d annoyed Wesley so? “But compare our staff to Lindsey. He was immune to external surveillance, strong and fast enough to fight Angel on equal footing and had a well-devised master plan to bring Angel to ruin. Can you think of anyone here who could do all of those things?”

 

“Well.” I grinned slyly and kicked Wesley’s leg gently. “There’s you.”

Wesley blinked. “Me?”

“Yes!” I nodded, putting down my drink and snapping my fingers. “That’s it! _We_ should be each other’s arch-nemeses!”

“I…” Wesley frowned. “I don’t quite follow.”

“Look.” I leaned towards him. “To qualify as an arch-nemesis, the other person has to challenge you intellectually, right? Y’know so that you can have battles of wit and opposing zany schemes. Now, can you think of anyone else at Wolfram and Hart who could challenge either of us intellectually?”

Wesley hesitated. “I suppose not. The staff here do leave something to be desired.”

I smiled. “Ergo, we should be arch-nemeses. We can have battles of wit and play games and see more of each other.” I pouted slightly. “I haven’t seen enough of you in _ages_ , Wesley.”

 

Wesley hesitated for a second, then nodded and sipped some of his scotch. “The idea has legs. I would be honoured to be your arch-nemesis.”

“And I am honoured to be yours.” I offered my hand. “May the best woman win.” Wesley chuckled softly and shook my hand firmly.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Fred.” He warned. “I’m no pushover.”

“Well, neither am I.” I finished my drink and waved at the bartender, who nodded at me in return and started making another one. I turned back to Wesley. “Unlike way too many of the staff here.”

 

“I know what you mean.” Wesley nodded. “Too many people here seem to be either evil or lazy.”

“Or just plain incompetent.” I shook my head. “I mean, you don’t want to _know_ how many times I’ve caught Knox right before he slipped up and made a major mistake that would have cost us days of work.”  
“No, please. Go on.” Wesley downed his scotch and turned to face me, looking very interested. “This sounds like something you need to get off your chest.”

“Well, right now he’s working on the Trask experiment and every time I take a look at his work, there’s more mistakes on it.” I glowered slightly, thinking of the headache I’d had this morning trying to deal with it. The bartender put down another fruity drink and I brightened. 

 

“Thanks!” I smiled at her, than glanced to my right: Wesley’s glass was empty. Perfect. “Oh, and one of those, please.” I smiled, pointing at Wesley’s empty drink.

“You got it.”

“Oh, and one for me too.” Wesley nodded. I blinked at him. 

“No, Wesley.” I smiled at him and rolled my eyes. “The one I’m ordering _is_ for you.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Are you sure? But I can-”

“No buts.” I shook my head. “I’m buying you a drink.”

Wesley smiled at me. “Thank you, Fred.”

“You’re welcome.” I smiled back.

 

When his scotch arrived I raised my own glass. “To my new arch-nemesis.” I grinned.

“Cheers.” Wesley smiled and we clinked glasses, then both of us drank.

“So.” I said slowly. “I’ve told you all about my woes in Practical Science. How are things on your end?”

“Oh, you know.” Wesley shrugged. “Same old, same old. Detailing spell-work, supervising shamans. Slowly removing the darker arts from our standard repertoire of spells.”

“And how’s that going?”  
“There’s much to be done.” Wesley grimaced. “But we haven’t sacrificed any living animals in over a month, so I’m making progress.”

“They used to sacrifice living animals?” I gaped. 

“Worse.” Wesley said grimly. “Before we took over, senior executives frequently sacrificed their own children.”

I shuddered. “Sometimes it feels like we may have bitten off more than we can chew here.”

“More than you can chew?” Wesley’s eyes gleamed. “That would be an impressively large mouthful.”

I giggled, instantly feeling better. “I’m so glad Cordy is back. She’ll keep us honest.”

“Yes.” Wesley smiled. “Not that you ever needed much help with that.”

“You know what I mean.” I elbowed him gently. “And I’m sure Angel will be so happy she’s back.”

“Yes.” Wesley sipped his scotch. “They finally get their chance to be together.”

“After so long.” I tried determinedly to make eye contact, but Wesley seemed extremely focused on a spot of wall in front of him. “They can finally just look right at each other and say ‘I only want to be with you’.”

“Yes.” Wesley sounded slightly pained, totally oblivious to the fact that I was staring at him, trying desperately to make eye contact while I said the words. “It’s wonderful for them.”

 

By the time Wesley turned back to face me, the moment had passed. So we talked in that easy way we always had, about small events in our daily lives, discussing books and theories, mundane and mystical, and I allowed myself to relax and have a real night off for the first time in much too long. I laughed at Wesley’s trademark dry humour, and I lost all track of time until I eventually glanced at the clock. “Wow, look at the time.”

Wesley glanced over at the clock and started. “Oh my, the time has flown by.”

“It does that when you’re having fun.” I shrugged at him and smiled. 

“So it does.” Wesley downed his scotch. For courage, I hoped. “I suppose I should be going home then.” Or not.

“That’s not what I meant.” I frowned down at my stomach. “I never got to eat dinner.”

“Same here.” Wesley drummed his fingers on the bar.

“We should go grab something to eat.” I smiled flirtily. “We haven’t hung out together in _ages_. I don’t want the night to end just yet.”

 

“Good idea.” Wesley nodded and smiled. Finally! Now to just- “I’ll get the others.” Wesley stood up.

“No!” I gasped. Wesley started and turned to face me, confused look on his face. Oh dear, how did I explain that? “I… err… think they’re otherwise occupied.” I nodded at the rest of the team meaningfully.

 

Lorne was surrounded by Sea Breezes, and seemed to be enjoying watching Gunn and Spike’s drinking contest, which - judging by the number of number of full shot glasses in front of them - looked like it would be going on for a while. 

 

“I suppose they are.” Wesley murmured. “Alright then. The two of us it is.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I said softly.

Wesley stopped mid-step and turned to face me, brow furrowing. “I’m sorry Fred, I must have misheard you, what did you-”

 

“Angel-cakes!” Lorne yelled happily, and I turned to see Lorne stand up and stumble towards Angel, walking slowly into the bar.

“We should tell Angel we’re going.” Wesley murmured, then marched over towards him.

 

“My condolences.” The bartender offered.

I turned to face her and frowned. “Pardon?”

The bartender nodded to Wesley. “For his cluelessness.” She explained. “It was painful to watch. I don’t even want to imagine what it felt like for you. The male of the species is truly a frustrating creature.”

 

Okay, so, maybe flirting with Wesley wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d thought. Or, rather, getting Wesley to _notice_ that I was flirting wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped. But I was not going to let that stop me. We’d wasted two and a half years dancing around each other and I was _not_ going to let a sudden onset of obliviousness on Wesley’s part stop me from showing him how I felt about him. I just had to be smarter. Plan better. Wesley was smart and he paid a lot of attention to me: there was no way he wouldn’t figure out what I was doing. I just had to be patient.

 

“Some Cupid kills with arrows,” I said to myself more than to her, downing my drink. “Others with traps.” As I walked towards Angel, I began formulating my attack strategy. It should still be easy: all I had to do was get the smart, perceptive guy who (I hoped) was hopelessly in love with me to recognise that _I_ was hopelessly in love with _him_. And we already had dinner set for tonight! Granted I was sure that Wesley hadn’t realised I meant a romantic dinner, but I could fix that pretty quickly by picking the restaurant. Really, this had been a stroke of luck: there was no way with our hectic jobs that I’d be able to get Wesley out to dinner any time soon after today. This was an opportunity not to be missed. Luckily, it wasn’t like Angel was going to tell us anything that could change our plans for the night. After all, we’d won! Beaten Lindsey. It wasn’t like any of us had died.


	2. Lesson Two: Wooing Coworkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few days after Lindsey's defeat, Fred decides it's time to get Wesley out of his office, make sure he's doing okay and set a trap for him.

I knocked on the door of Wesley’s office then, without waiting for an answer, opened it and stepped in, closing it behind me. “Hey Wesley!” I smiled and waved.

“Fred.” Wesley looked up from his desk, covered - as per the norm - in dozens of scrolls and books. He looked surprised but happy.

 

I’d take surprised but happy. For now.

 

“How can I help you?” He asked, standing up.

“Actually, I’m here to help you.” I folded my arms and leaned on the doorframe, raising both eyebrows. “I’ve heard the stories.”

“Stories?” Wesley frowned. “What stories?”

“That _you_ ,” I sauntered over to the desk. “Have barely left your office the last few days. Not even to eat lunch. You have it brought in.”

 

“Well, yes, I have been a little busy…” Wesley murmured, then crossed his arms defensively. “So?”

God, he could be such a child. It was cute, in a way. But so unhelpful. “So, you need fresh air!” I paused. “Or at least, fresher than in here. Come to lunch. You’ll get out of your office, have a quick break, I won’t have to sit all on my lonesome…”

 

“Alright.” Wesley nodded and stood up, stretching and groaning as he did so. I watched appreciatively: working behind a desk had done _nothing_ to diminish his muscle definition. I appreciated that. “What’s on the menu today?”

“I remember seeing that they’d done some fish pie, special.” I said, putting uncertainty in my voice.

Wesley brightened. “Really? That’s quite a stroke of luck, I didn’t think they served that here.”

 

I had a vivid flashback to a long and vicious negotiation (Read: argument) with the head chef yesterday evening, which had stopped just shy of hair pulling before I got my way. I was _not_ going to take Wesley out to lunch, only for him to just remember he hated the food. No way. I was smarter than that. Also smart enough to see that the way Wesley was dealing with Cordelia… Cordelia’s death, was by obsessing over his work. By inviting him to lunch, I could get him out, spend some time with him , make sure he was doing alright _and_ spring my trap. It was a foolproof plan… and what Cordy would have wanted.

 

“So, where’s Knox?” Wesley asked evenly, weaving elegantly past a trio of squabbling snake demons. I winced: Knox. Knox… was not a fun person to be around at the moment. I mean, he’d been great company for a while. For that bare couple of weeks when I’d been able to successfully hide my feelings for Wesley from myself, he’d been fun. Funny, even. Now…

 

Awkward. I’d been making our interactions more professional and less personal for a while even before I’d had my epiphany about Wesley, but he really hadn’t got the hint. On the contrary, it seemed like he was pushing harder for something to happen between us. Which wasn’t gonna happen and I’d tried to tell him as much subtly but… 

 

He just wouldn’t take the hint. Just like Wesley wasn’t. But I was working on both of those problems: Knox I was slowly but steadily pushing away, staying completely professional in all interactions and leaving no opportunity for any misinterpretation of what I wanted. And as for Wesley… I had plans in place. 

 

“Why, did you need to see him?” I smiled at Wesley.

“No.” Wesley frowned. “I’m just surprised he’s not with you. What with you needing to drag me out of my office for lunch company.” 

 

Ah. So Wesley knew me and Knox had _almost_ had something. That would explain some of his hesitation. I frowned internally: when he was looking at Knox he saw a relationship that didn’t exist, and when he looked at me he missed the _blatantly_ obvious signals I’d sent him in the bar? That was just plain unfair. Still, I could handle this. Easily.

 

“Knox needs to be in the lab when I manage to eke out a few minutes of break time.” I explained. “Do his best to keep the ship steady. Besides, I wanted to see you!”

“Make sure I got out of my office.” Wesley smiled ruefully. “Thank you, Fred. It’s appreciated.” I groaned internally: that wasn’t what I’d said at all!

 

“So, what was that you were working on?” I asked conversationally, nimbly changing the topic as we made our way through the always-bustling corridors. “It looked kind of portal-y from where I was standing.”

Wesley looked impressed. “Yes, that’s right. Some portal incantations for the Mythrok retreat on Monday.”

“You nearly done with that?” I asked as we entered the canteen, wandering towards the separate queue for senior executives which was - as usual - empty.

Wesley laughed softly. “I… haha… oh dear… Fred, I apologise, that was rude of me.”

“Pfft. Don’t worry about it.” I batted him lightly on the arm and grinned. “I like hearing you laugh. I miss it. I take it those portal incantations are _not_ nearly done?”

“Try ‘barely begun’.” Wesley grimaced, nodding politely at the server as he took a tray. I nabbed my own and beelined straight for an isolated table for two, the intern who’d been sitting there sipping his coffee immediately making for the exit. I smiled, out of sight of Wesley: Walt had come through. I thought having him unofficially reserve one table for me wasn’t a bad trade for an afternoon off.

 

I sat down at the table and pushed out Wesley’s chair with my foot. “Thanks.” He nodded and sat down. I very slowly withdrew my leg, letting the exposed top of my foot brush lightly against Wesley’s leg on the way past. I saw a hint of red enter Wesley’s cheeks and smiled: so far so good.

 

“I think,” Wesley paused before taking his first bite of the pie (which really didn’t look anything like a pie, I had no idea why the English called it that). “That I might have to stay here all night finishing it off. Dry stuff, too. Just drudgery. High-level, important drudgery…”

“Which you can’t leave to anyone else, but is still dry as old crackers.” I nodded understandingly, crossed my fingers under the table and kept talking. “I have some of that on my hands too. A whole bunch of reports I have to re-read, confirm and give my stamp of approval to before they get imprinted down in files and records.”

“Do you have much of that to do?” Wesley asked, voice sympathetic as he tucked into his meal.

 

“Too much.” I groaned. “And I can’t even delegate this. I’m going to be working very late tonight - or rather very early tomorrow - finishing it.” I shot a quick glance at Wesley: still listening intently. Alright. Groundwork laid. Now to lead him into the trap he hadn’t even realised I’d set. 

 

“I could really use some company.” I sighed, looking resolutely at my food. “Just somebody to talk to while I work, y’know? Keep me from going crazy trying to read all my own handwriting from months ago.”

“I may be able to help with that.” I bit down on my smile to stop it from becoming impossibly wide and looked up at Wesley. He was smiling! He looked _very_ pleased.

 

“If someone was looking for you tonight, doing your work… where might they be advised to look?” Wesley asked casually, grinning slightly at me.

“They might find me in my office by the lab. At about eight.” I gave Wesley my widest smile, then dropped my voice to a whisper. “And they would _definitely_ be well advised to bring coffee.”

“And biscuits?” Wesley raised an eyebrow, eyes gleaming.

“Obviously. The more chocolate-y, the better.”

“Noted.” Wesley nodded at me and smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I giggled. “I’m sure you’ll rustle up something.” I grinned.

“Count on it.”

 

Hook. Line. Sinker! Yes! If Wesley couldn’t tell when I was flirting with him, then the best way to make sure he spent time with me was to dress it up as work-related _and_ make it clear that he was my first choice for company. I’d established that both of us were working late tonight, lamented a lack of company and I’d even managed to make it clear that it was very much a non-professional event by encouraging him to bring coffee and biscuits. Wesley might not know it yet, but we were going to have a lot of fun tonight. Because once I finished up my reports - which I could really speed through once I built up momentum - I could focus all my attention on Wesley. Nobody else around. No distractions. I’d brush up on my portal incantations this afternoon so I could be helpful tonight.

 

Leaning over Wesley’s shoulder to make small changes or point out issues, rubbing up against him. Dozens of light, soft, unmistakeable touches. Talking into the early hours of the morning, coffee, biscuits and then, I’d take him out for breakfast. Far from Wolfram and Hart. A small table in a diner. Lots of smiles and giggling, sharing food, footsie under the table… there was no way Wesley could misinterpret all of _that._ I shivered in anticipation: finally!

 

“So, what’s Gunn up to at the moment?” I asked casually, unable to keep the smile off my face.

“Still supervising the search for Eve.” Wesley replied. “Which so far has borne no fruit.”

“Well, considering we couldn’t find Lindsey until he strolled into our basement and tried to release a super-demon, finding Eve might prove tricky.” I pointed out.

“Yes, but Angel wants it done.” Wesley shrugged. “Personally I’m not sure why he - or the Senior Partners - let her leave the building.”

“Maybe Angel didn’t want to sully the victory by having to haul Eve somewhere.” I suggested. “And as for the SPs, well… could be any number of reasons. They aren’t big on the predictability factor.”

“That’s certainly true.” Wesley agreed. 

 

“And how are you doing?” I asked softly, setting down my cutlery and looking him in the eye. “We haven’t really talked since… y’know…”

“Cordelia.” Wesley said quietly, setting down his knife and fork. After Angel had broken the news, nobody had felt like staying in the bar. Wesley had asked to be excused from dinner and I’d agreed, offering to walk him home. 

 

He’d gently refused. He’d wanted to be alone. Angel had given us all a few days off of work to process. For me, processing had mainly been ice cream, old photos and bad movies. I’d wished the whole time that I had Wesley with me, but I knew that I couldn’t ask him. He had to deal with it in his own way. Now I had to see if he’d dealt.

 

“I’m managing.” Wesley sighed deeply, resting his hands on the table. “I never really expected her to wake from her coma, truth be told. I’d grieved once, so then to have Cordelia given back and then taken away…”

“Hurt like hell.” I nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently. “I know.”

“I think it’s best to stay busy.” Wesley murmured. 

“As if we could stay anything else, working here.” I smiled weakly. Wesley laughed. We kept talking long past the time when we’d finished our meals, and I walked away with the happy conclusion that Wesley was going to be alright. 

 

In fact a lot better than, after tonight.

 

I couldn’t wait.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I glanced at the clock and sighed impatiently, swinging my legs back and forth under my desk. Seven fifty-five. Five more whole minutes to go. I twirled my pen in one hand and fidgeted. Part of me knew I should be _trying_ to look busy, so my ruse wasn’t paper-thin when Wesley got in. (But then, would it be so bad if he saw it was a ruse?)

 

I double-checked my preparations: my flower-patterned skirt and pink blouse were both stylish - or at least as stylish as I got - and uncreased. New coat of lipstick applied. I had my pile of reports stacked up in plain sight on one side of the desk so it would be clear I still needed company, and I’d left the door to my office ajar so he wouldn’t fret needlessly about coming in. I’d retrieved an especially comfy chair from another room to make sure Wesley was relaxed (well, more relaxed than he was normally anyway). I was ready: a night spent entirely with Wesley, chatting and slowly letting him realise that my feelings for him had deepened. I sighed happily, letting myself daydream pleasantly…

 

A soft knock on the door.

 

I sat up in my chair, straightened my glasses, fixed a welcoming smile on my face and called out softly. “Come in!” The door swung open. The smile slipped off my face.

 

“Hi.” Knox shuffled into the room awkwardly. In one hand he was holding a small tray of chocolate biscuits. In the other, a coffee-cup holder with two coffees in it. No. No, this wasn’t… it didn’t make any sense! Why was Knox here? I’d made it very clear to Wesley I needed company tonight, intimated _very clearly_ that I wanted to spend the time with him and he’d…

 

Promised to find me some company. I felt like icy water was trickling slowly down my spine. I’d thought he was being coy, flirty but… but he’d somehow _missed_ that I wanted to spend time with him? I’d dragged him out to lunch, sat at a table alone with him, lamented a lack of company for the night and told him exactly what I wanted from said company, and he hadn’t come? He’d sent _Knox?!_ How could one man be so oblivious? 

 

“I heard you were looking for me.” Knox smiled hopefully, stepping forwards. “And I figured since you were working late tonight, I’d bring a little pick-me-up. I could stick around here for a while and do some work. Keep you company.” This was a nightmare. This was hell. Knox’s gaze slipped downwards to my lips for a moment - doubtless recognising that I’d applied a fresh coat since I last saw him only an hour ago - and his smile widened ever so slightly, as he looked back up at me.

 

Oh, God. Wesley had told Knox that I needed company tonight, and that I wanted biscuits and coffee. Knox must have assumed that I’d asked Wesley to send him, and then he’d arrived to find me dressed up like I was going on a date, with a fresh coat of lipstick applied! I had a feeling that all of my work sending out ‘let’s just be co-workers’ signals had just been flushed down the toilet. I managed to suppress a groan: Wesley really was being impossible.

 

I blinked and smiled very slightly, hoping the crushing disappointment I was feeling hadn’t displayed itself too obviously externally. “Hi, Knox.” Knox smiled and took a few steps forwards. Oh, dammit, how did I deal with this?

 

“Thanks for the care package, I really appreciate it.” I nodded gratefully. “But, umm, you _really_ shouldn’t stay here and work tonight, I mean, you’ll need to be awake enough to run the lab tomorrow.”

“Ah, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” Knox sat down in the comfy chair and carefully set down the biscuit tray on the desk, sliding one of the coffees over to me. “Those are just lab reports, right? You should be able to really burn through those once you get the momentum going. I can stay awake that long.” 

 

Perfect. _Knox_ was being assertive. Just… perfect. So much for my foolproof plan.

 

“Well…” I turned back to my first report, letting a spark of annoyance enter my voice. “If there’s nowhere else you have to be…”

“Trust me.” Knox stammered and smiled shyly. “This is the only place I want to be.” I managed to avoid slamming my head into the desk. Why did Wesley have to be so oblivious to my feelings and simultaneously so dedicated to me that he thought sending Knox down here in his place would make me happy? This was such a mess. I decided ignoring Knox’s comment was best.

 

I took a sip of the coffee and almost choked. It was _awful._ Knox had missed out several sugars from my coffee order. And he’d forgotten I liked some little marshmallows. How could Knox have been working for me for months and still not know my coffee order? I resisted the urge to spit it out and put the cup out of easy reach, resolving to let it go cold. Now. How did I get Knox to leave without making him feel like crap? Because I might not be interested in Knox, but he was still a coworker and still a nice person, and I didn’t want to make him miserable, especially since I’d kinda indirectly caused him to get his hopes up again. Then I had an idea. A good one. But for it to work, I needed Knox out of the room for a few minutes. And to make sure that happened sooner rather than later (so I could still salvage tonight, and avoid making Wesley think I’d spent a romantic evening working with Knox) I needed to have a reason to send him out. I looked between the coffee and the biscuits. I was _not_ touching that coffee again. Biscuits it was.

 

As I worked, I munched through biscuits as fast as I could - causing Knox to look incrementally more shocked - until after twenty minutes, I’d polished off the entire tray. I took a sip of my coffee, desperate for anything to counteract the dryness of my mouth, and managed to stop myself spitting it out. I waited a few minutes, then cast a mournful look at the biscuit tray. Knox looked hesitant. I sighed deliberately.

 

“You know, I think I’d like some more biscuits.” Knox stood up, grabbing the tray. “Do you want some?”

“Oh, yes please.” I kept my eyes glued on the lab report. The second Knox was out of earshot, I fumbled for the phone and dialled, praying she hadn’t gone home yet.

 

“Wolfram and Hart, CEO’s office.” The familiar airy voice floated over the line. Yes!  
“Hi Harmony!” I smiled genuinely.

“Fred!” Harmony gasped. “It’s been ages! How are you?”

“I’m really good, thanks!” I replied. “I kind of need a favour. From my gal pal.”

“Oh, of course Fred!” Harmony squealed happily. “Anything you need.”

“Alright.” I paused, thinking about how to phrase this. “Do you know where supplies cupboard B2 is on the Practical Science floor?”

“Err…”

“Turn left out the main elevator, first right and it has B2 on the door.” I explained. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” Harmony sounded unenthusiastic. “Am I retrieving some stuff for you?”

“Actually,” I grinned. “I kind of need you to make as big a mess as you possibly can, then scram.”

“You mean it?” Harmony gasped. “I love making mess!”

“I mean it.” I nodded. “Smash everything, knock things over: cause as much chaos as possible, then get outta there. I promise nobody else will ever know about this.”

“You got it!” There was a pause. “Are you living your excitement through me, Fred? Because if it’s been a hard day at work, then having me smash up some stuff for you really isn’t the best way to relieve tension. You’d be much better off pulling Knox into B2 and-”

“No!” I hissed. “Just… please, do it Harmony.”

“Alright, you got it.”

 

I put down the phone, shuddered at Harmony’s implication, and went back to my reports. “The conquering hero returns.” Knox announced a while later, returning with a tray stacked even higher with biscuits than before.

“Thanks.” I said vacantly, barely glancing at him before returning to the reports. Knox started fidgeting idly.

 

“So,” He said after a couple of minutes. “How about we-”

“Can you smell that?” I frowned, lifting my head up and sniffing.

Knox inhaled deeply. “No.” He frowned. “What do you smell?”

“It can’t be…” I murmured, striding out of my office, through the lab and into the corridor. I stuck my head round the corner and faked a gasp of surprise. “Oh, no!”

 

Harmony had done excellent work. The door to the supply cupboard had practically been ripped off its hinges, a puddle of - quite harmless but very disgusting - sludge was oozing out into the corridor, there were shards of glass everywhere and dozens of different types of science supplieswere scattered around the entrance. I didn’t want to see the havoc Harmony had wreaked inside the actual cupboard, but if it even came close to what was out here, it would be magnificent.

 

“Aww, crap.” Knox muttered. “What the hell happened here?”

“B2’s been destroyed.” I frowned. “I liked B2.” I _hated_ B2. The layout inside was all weird and the top shelf was a little too high for me to reach and there were typos on most of the labels. It was just wrong. But I was getting sidetracked.

 

“Knox, I really don’t think I can deal with this right now.” I gestured to the mess. “Can you supervise cleanup for me? Get the cupboard functioning again?”

“Sure.” Knox nodded. “I’ll get right on it.” Thank you, Harmony. I felt a pang of sympathy for Knox: he didn’t deserve to have to be cleaning up a mess like this.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I made my way across the open atrium towards Wesley’s office, clutching my stack of lab reports nervously. I nodded gratefully to Harmony as I walked past and she waved enthusiastically in response, blowing me a kiss. I rapped gently on the door to Wesley’s office.

 

“Come in!” 

I stepped in and smiled. “Hi, again.”

“Fred.” Wesley blinked, putting down his coffee. If not for the fading light outside, I could almost believe I’d stepped right back in time, into Wesley’s office from this afternoon. He was sitting in the exact same position, with the portal incantation sheets laid out in the same pattern. “How are you?”

“Pretty good.” I beamed. “Just got a couple lab reports to do, like I said. You still all portal-y?”

“Yes, I am.” Wesley frowned, looking concerned. “Did you… that is to say, have you been working alone downstairs?”

“Kinda.” I shrugged, walking up to the desk. “Knox showed up for a little while. Coffee and biscuits in hand.” I smiled at Wesley, then dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should have reminded him exactly what my coffee order was.”

 

Wesley looked at me disbelievingly. “He got your coffee order _wrong?”_ I nodded gravely. Wesley shook his head, pulled open a drawer in his desk to withdraw the sugar cubes and teaspoon he kept there for tea, then popped open the lid on his untouched coffee, dunked in two sugar cubes and started stirring.

 

Aww! 

 

And just _that_ , that little gesture, made the entire mess with Knox entirely worth it. I felt like someone had lit a toasty fire next to my heart. Wesley was so dedicated to me - without even thinking about it, without thinking anything of it - and it made me feel so special and happy. “I don’t have any marshmallows,” Wesley murmured apologetically, scratching the back of his head and passing the cup over to me. “But if you want I could-”

“No.” I shook my head and took a long gulp of the coffee. Wonderful. I smiled at Wesley as widely as I possibly could. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Wesley smiled, cheeks going slightly red as he bent back over his portal notes.

“Can I take that literally?” I asked. He blinked at me and I soldiered on. “I sent Knox off to deal with a supply cupboard mishap and I still have some lab reports to do. I was hoping I could stick around here for a bit, get them done.”

“Of course.” Wesley hesitated. “How long do you need me out of here for?”

I rolled my eyes internally. “I don’t. Stick around. I like the company.” Wesley smiled, looking relieved, and returned to his incantations.

 

God, he was such hard work. Lucky for him he was worth it.

 

I sat down in one of Wesley’s spare chairs and went through the lab reports as fast as I possibly could. When I finished my new coffee, I popped out quickly to make another for each of us, which Wesley accepted gratefully. After half an hour total of companionable silence and coffee drinking, I set down my last report and glanced subtly at Wesley: completely engrossed. 

 

I stood up, plucked a pencil out of his desk tidy and wandered around to his side of the desk, peeking over his shoulder. I studied his progress for a second, then leaned over - eliciting a slight gasp from Wesley as I brushed his side - and sketched in a rune just ahead of where he was working. “Is that right?” I questioned.

“Yes.” Wesley breathed. “In fact it’s better. It’s… elegant. A better solution than the one I’d devised.”

“That’s the thing about drudgery.” I shrugged. “Do it long enough and it grinds you down. You start focusing so much on work that you miss out on other things. Important, elegant, wonderful things.” I leaned back forwards over the papers, pressing myself lightly against Wesley’s side in the process. He angled himself away and I suppressed a sigh, filling in another rune.

 

“I haven’t gotten a chance to work on anything mystical in ages.” I surveyed the pages. “Want a hand?”

“It’s frightfully dull.” Wesley muttered, without conviction. “You need sleep, really you should-”

“Would you prefer it if I stayed?” I asked clearly, looking directly into Wesley’s eyes.

“Always.” He answered eventually.

“Then I’ll stay.” I said firmly, smiling widely at him. “At least, til you bid me.” Wesley blinked.

 

Then he broke into a wide, happy smile. His blue eyes were sparkling, his whole face lit up and he looked so very handsome, and so very like the Wesley I missed so, so keenly. I suddenly realised that we were very close together. Mere inches between us. It would be so easy, so _right_ to just lean in and kiss Wesley, to sweep the boring, pointless papers off his desk and sit on the edge, to pull him tight against me and show him just how much I cared for him. I was going to do it. I breathed in and brushed my hair out of my face. I made to step forwards, to finally-

 

“Hey, Wes, how are the…” I stiffened, Wesley stepping away from me. Charles stopped in the door, briefcase in hand. “… portal incantations? Hey, Fred.” Charles looked between Wesley and I, then winced. He flashed me an apologetic look: at least _one_ other person in this place wasn’t blind. 

“Hey, Charles.” I nodded, tilting my head to hide the flush in my cheeks from Wesley. “I just came to do some lab reports and lend a hand on the portal-work.”

“We’ll have it done by morning.” Wesley said reassuringly. “I know this one matters to you and Angel.”

“Thanks.” Charles smirked. “Glad to see everything is in _very_ capable hands.” He winked at me and I felt myself flush, bending down to keep working on the runes and hoping that my hair - falling in a curtain between Wesley and I that was quite attractive if I could say so myself - would hide my new colour. I heard Charles’ footsteps receding and let out a sigh. So close.

 

I turned to look at Wesley, now positioned at the far end of the desk, rapidly scrawling runes, probably working at maximum speed so as not to keep me here longer than necessary.

 

And now so far.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I set down the pencil and blinked out the window. “Is that the sun?” I asked disbelievingly, watching light creep over the horizon.

“Yes, it is.” Wesley groaned, rubbing his forehead and collapsing into one of the guest chairs.

“I don’t want it to be morning yet.” I mumbled, sinking into the chair next to him. I kicked off my shoes and rested my feet on the desk, wiggling my toes. That felt good. And if, as a side effect, it displayed my legs to Wesley… well, that was a bonus. “Morning means I can’t sleep, because the lab will be opening soon. I don’t have time to go home and sleep.”

 

“You know what I think would help?” Wesley mumbled.

“What?” I asked, shutting my eyes. Man, my eyelids felt so heavy.

“Breakfast.” I jolted awake instantly. Breakfast? With Wesley? At his initiation? Sign me up! “With coffee.”

“Count me in.” I stumbled upright and suppressed a yawn, stepping back into my shoes. 

“There’s a nice little place a few streets over.” Wesley suggested. “I hear they do the most amazing pancakes.”

I grinned. “Do they do coffee?”

“Most definitely.” Wesley shot me a grin. “Sounds good?”  
“ _Great._ ” I beamed and pressed the button for the elevator. My plan had been a success!

 

Admittedly a qualified one, but still. I’d adapted. Improvised. Got rid of Knox, spent time with Wesley, had coffee together, come _achingly_ close to kissing him… but now we could have breakfast. And it didn’t matter how oblivious Wesley was, because I was a _master_ at flirting over breakfast, and once he was in that diner nothing would stop me from-

 

The elevator doors open. Angel blinked at me. “Fred.” He smiled, looking relieved. “Just the woman I was looking for.”

I had a sudden sinking feeling. “Really?” I laughed nervously, praying it was nothing to do with supply cupboard B2. I didn’t want to have to explain that.

“Yeah.” Angel began limping towards his office, cradling one arm at his side. I trailed after him - gratified to note that Wesley was following me - and listened. “The Trask experiment. I just heard it got delayed again.”

“Yeah.” I mumbled. “One of my scientists failed to properly-”

“Can you please get over to the lab and start fixing it?” Angel asked. “I could really use a win.”

“Wesley and I just completed the Mythrok portal incantations!” I announced happily, hoping he’d let up. “That’s a win!”

 

Angel stopped walking. Wesley stiffened up next to me. Oh dear.

 

Angel slowly turned round and looked at Wesley, dangerous glint in his eyes. “You mean those weren’t finished yesterday evening, when you told me they were?”

“Angel,” Wesley rubbed his eyes and stood up straight. “You had a lot on your plate. I just wanted you to-”

“So you lied to me,” Angel snapped and gestured to me. “Then dragged Fred out of the lab to help you catch up on your sloppy work, _and_ caused her to fall behind on her own very important duties?”

“Actually, I was the one who-” I started talking, feeling my stomach sinking as Wesley wilted under the tirade.

“Don’t cover for him, Fred!” Angel snapped.

I glowered. Oh, boy, was he in for it. “Angel, I am _more_ than-”

 

“I’m sorry.” Wesley spoke softly, looking at his feet. I blinked, and stopped talking. He looked horribly guilty. But he hadn’t done anything wrong! Nothing at all! Angel was just being cranky! “It won’t happen again.” I felt myself deflate slightly. I had a bad feeling I wouldn’t be luring Wesley into any more joint-work sessions… which was awful because this time had been _fun._

“Good.” Angel nodded. “Fred, start working on fixing this Trask mess. Wesley… just get out of my sight.”

 

Angel slammed his office doors in front of us. I turned to face Wesley. He was staring at his shoes.

 

I reached out to brush his shoulder. “Wesley, I-”

“I’m sorry.” Wesley mumbled. “I’ll let you get on with your work. I shouldn’t have… sorry.” Wesley practically sprinted away from me. I felt a sharp pang of longing and regret. Definitely no more joint-work sessions. I sighed unhappily: there was a dull ache in my chest from where he’d been snatched away.

 

By the time I got back to my office after doing some damage control on Trask, it was almost seven in the morning and I hadn’t had a wink of sleep. I blinked at the inside of my office, sure I was hallucinating. An air mattress, pillow and some blankets had been put behind my desk, and a note and mug placed on the desk itself. I stumbled to the desk and attempted to read the note, blinking away my tiredness.

 

Fred,

 

Sorry for the mess with Angel. I’ve cleared your schedule until after lunch: I’d count it as a personal favour if you got some sleep. Sorry again.

Wesley

 

I smiled sadly: oh, Wesley. I’d have to set the record straight later. For now, I needed to sleep. I sipped the mug: hot cocoa. With marshmallows. Blissfully good. I shut and locked the door to my office, closed the blinds, crawled under the covers and closed my eyes. “Thank you, Wesley.” I murmured softly, and slipped into a deep sleep.


	3. Lesson Three: Exploiting Mutual Interests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An offhanded comment from Wesley inspires Fred to set off a potentially beneficial chain of events.

“I can’t believe Angel had _another_ arch-nemesis.” Wesley glowered, rubbing his neck where the wire had been digging into it as he walked into his office. “A grizzled vampire hunter, a mystically powered ex-lawyer and now a submarine vampire from World War Two?”

“They are proving to be a pain.” I winced, rubbing my own neck and collapsing into one of the two chairs in front of Wesley’s desk. It felt so good to _sit_ in one of these, rather than have to stand on one for hours on end with wire tied around your neck ready to decapitate you. “Why can’t Angel have any helpful long-lost friends or mystically powerful allies, rather than deadly adversaries?”

 

“I suppose centuries of relentless bloodshed and carnage don’t lend themselves towards making friends we want to have.” Wesley sank into the chair behind his desk. I pouted. Of course he wouldn’t sit in the chair next to me. Maybe it was because that one’s armrests still had ropes there from when I’d been tied to them. Speaking of…

 

“Sorry.” I smiled apologetically at Wesley.

“Whatever for?” Wesley frowned.

“Getting you caught.” I sighed. “Silly old Fred got herself captured by the vampire. And then I got tied to that chair and used as live bait. And then you saw me and wanted to help and he got the drop on you.”

“He caught us all by surprise.” Wesley said dismissively. “You can’t blame yourself for a vampire getting the best of you in unarmed combat.”

“Maybe.” I frowned. “But I’m losing my touch when it comes to combat skills. Last year, I would have had that guy down and out, easy. You could have beaten him in hand-to-hand combat if he hadn’t snuck up on you.”

“Perhaps.” Wesley said modestly.

“Say,” I brightened, hit by a stroke of inspiration. “We should do some training together at some point. You can help me sharpen my skills back up! I mean, if you’re not too busy and all, I understand that you’re-”

 

“That does sound like it could be fun.” Wesley mused and I stopped talking immediately. “Yes. Get out of my office for a bit. We could use that training room I keep hearing about.”

“Oh, that place is cool!” I grinned. “They have automated training systems!” I blinked. Oh God, why had I said that, now he was going to-

“Are you sure you want me training you?” Wesley frowned, looking put out. There it was. “I mean, if there are automatic training systems available, they’ll probably do a better job teaching you than m-”

“Wesley,” I leaned in and dropped my voice to a whisper. “It’s probably a good idea if I don’t learn just the combat moves all the Wolfram and Hart employees will know. Just in case.”

Wesley nodded, expression understanding. “Good idea. Never hurts to be careful.”

“Great.” I gave him a winning smile. “How about tomorrow morning, I’ll check my timetable and see when we can slot in a session?”

“Sounds perfect.” Wesley nodded and stood up, stretching. “I think I might go home to do some spell detailing. Being kidnapped once meets my quota for this week.”

“Yeah.” I sighed: I’d been hoping he’d stick around. “And, for the record?”

Wesley cocked his head at me. “I really miss the days when we could play lots and _lots_ of Jenga.” I smiled, remembering his comment from earlier tonight. 

“So do I.” Wesley smiled ruefully, pressing the button for the elevator. 

 

I hovered by the stairs awkwardly. “Umm…”

“What is it, Fred?” Wesley frowned, turning to face me.

I desperately wanted to walk to the car park with him. To spend as much time as possible in his company. “I left my car keys in the lab.” I said sheepishly. “I guess I’ll-“

“Have to bear my company a while longer?” Wesley suggested hesitantly, taking a step towards me. The elevator doors opened behind him. He didn’t turn away from me.

“Yeah.” I grinned. “I’d really like that. Thanks, Wesley.”

“You’re welcome, Fred.” Wesley caught up to me on the stairs and we walked to the lab together.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I yawned and stretched my arms, sipping at my first coffee of the day as I walked into the lab. “Morning, Fred.” Knox waved from a workstation.  
“Good morning Knox.” I inclined my head politely and opened the door to my office.

 

Sitting on my desk was a large, wrapped present. Cuboid shape, light blue paper, white bow and a small card on top. Finding strange things in my office really did seem to be the flavour of the month. I moved over to it slowly, _dreading_ another present from Knox that I’d have to awkwardly accept. I flipped over the card.

 

A reminder of better times - W

 

I smiled, mood instantly shifting: I’d recognise that handwriting anywhere. Although this was definitely neater than Wesley’s usual scrawl… had he put in some extra effort for me? I slipped the card into my pocket and turned back to the box, undoing the bow. The soft, satiny ribbon drifted to the surface of the desk and then I couldn’t help myself. 

 

I’d always been an aggressive present opener. Since I was a little girl, I used to leave shredded wrapping paper all over the house around my birthday and Christmas time. And the fact that thepresent was from Wesley didn’t exactly tamp down my excitement. I tore at the wrapping paper eagerly, ripping away huge swathes of it at a time. When what was underneath became clear, my smile got even wider. A Jenga set. A new version of the one we’d all used to play together back at the Hyperion. I bundled up the wrapping and stuffed it into my office’s paper recycling bin (one of many great strides we’d made towards changing Wolfram and Hart from the inside: we recycled the waste!) then opened the box and retrieved a single brick.

 

I quickly searched through my desk, looking for a scrap of card and found nothing. Post-it note would have to do. I stuck a post-it to the brick and scribbled on it.

 

You are hereby challenged to a sacred battle: we shall begin with a bout of physical combat, then proceed to a battle of wits. As challenged, you have the right to bring any additional modes of contestation (I’m especially partial to Catan). The time shall be at seven tonight, in the training room! Fred x 

 

PS: please bring coffee

 

I bit my lip, staring at the ‘x’ I’d added after my name. It wasn’t like it was that daring. And given my current luck, Wesley wouldn’t read anything into it anyway. I was going to leave it there. But, no sense in having Wesley think I’d somehow accidentally left it on his desk and him giving it to someone else… I stuck a second post-it note on top of this one (so that the original note could still be seen) and simply wrote ‘Wesley’ on it. I nodded, satisfied, and slipped the brick into my jacket pocket. I grabbed a random folder off my desk and walked purposefully out of the lab, not making eye contact with Knox.

 

I managed not to run into anyone I knew in the corridors or the elevator and strutted confidently over to Harmony’s desk. “Good morning, Harmony.” I chirped.

“Fred!” Harmony gasped, looking up at me and squealing. “Thank you _so much_ for the little unicorn statue! It’s so cute!”

“Pfft, don’t worry.” I waved a hand. “It was the least I could do after you helped me out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I _loved_ helping!” Harmony grinned, dropping her voice to a stage whisper. “A free license to cause mayhem, _and_ you made sure nobody ever found out? You ever need anything trashed again, I’m your gal.”

“I’ll… I’ll bear that in mind.” I managed, pretty sure I would never need anything trashed again but unsure how to break that to Harmony, who seemed ecstatic. “Say, do you know if Wesley is in his office right now?”

 

“Yeah, he is. Been there for hours.” Harmony smiled slyly. “Is this about the little trip he made downstairs to Practical Science before you got in today?”

“What? NO!” I began stammering. “I err, what trip? I mean, I had no idea that Wesley…” Harmony was only smirking more. I took a deep breath and got myself under control. Relax, Fred. Relax. It’s just Harmony.

 

“I don’t know what you mean, Harmony.” I said professionally. Harmony’s smile widened. “But I would very much appreciate it if you could wait for a moment when Wesley is out of his office, then leave this on his desk.” I reached into my pocket, fingers closing around the brick-

 

“Fred, you could have just knocked.” Wesley’s voice admonished. I spun around, feeling myself go pink. Wesley was standing only a few feet behind me, one eyebrow raised. Oh, lord, how much had he heard? Had he heard me make a fool of myself in front of Harmony? Oh God, I really hoped not.

“Umm…” I laughed nervously, fidgeting. “I guess so, huh? Silly me.”

“What’s the case?” Wesley asked politely. “Something juicy?”

“Case?” I frowned.

“The file.” Wesley nodded at the random file I’d grabbed off my desk as a pretext for leaving the lab.

“Oh. This.” I opened it, trying to catch a glimpse of the subject matter: the Trask experiment. Hmm. Not really anything I had a good reason to be giving Wesley, since there weren’t any mystical elements. “Oh that’s… not why I came.”

“Oh?” Wesley looked intrigued.

I glanced around surreptitiously, then said quietly. “I wanted to say thanks. For the Jenga. It’s great.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” Wesley shrugged. 

“And,” I continued, slipping one hand into my pocket to tear the post-it notes off the brick. “I came to challenge you to a duel!” I tossed the brick at him. Wesley caught it nimbly with one hand and studied it.

 

He grinned widely. “And this would be your equivalent of throwing down the gauntlet, I take it?”

“That’s the one.” I smiled back, smoothing down my skirt to keep from fidgeting. “I thought we might tie it in with one of those combat training sessions we talked about? Say… starting at seven tonight?” 

“Seven it is.” Wesley nodded. “I look forward to it.”

“Yeah.” I smiled shyly, looking directly at Wesley. “Highlight of my day, for sure.” Wesley blinked and straightened up slightly.

“So, I haven’t had my morning coffee yet.” I lied (well technically not a lie, since I hadn’t finished the one downstairs), smiling hopefully. “Feel like grabbing some?”

“Most definitely.” Wesley’s smile widened and I widened my own in return, deliberately not looking away from him. His blue eyes softened and I could have sworn I detected a hint of surprise… or maybe even hope? Was I finally getting through to him? Could Wesley, after a painful week oftotal obliviousness, finally be coming around to the fact that I really, _really_ -

 

“Fredikins! Harmonica! Wesley!” Lorne was bustling towards us, waving happily, flanked as always by his assistant. 

“Lorne.” Wesley turned to Lorne and smiled in welcome.

“Hi Lorne.” I said, less sunnily than I normally would. 

“Lorney Tunes.” Harmony said. I frowned: she sounded kind of sulky. What had Lorne done to her?

 

“Oh, people!” Lorne shook his head as he drew closer, frowning. “You all need to lighten up! What did I walk in on, a funeral?”

Wesley chuckled. “It’s good to see you too, Lorne.”  
“Yeah.” I chimed in, smiling at him. “It is.”

“Anyway, ladies, is it alright with you if I steal this charming gentleman away for a little while?” Lorne smiled roguishly at Harmony and me, gesturing to Wesley. No! Not _again!_ We… we were going to have _coffee._

 

“NO!” Harmony yelled. I turned to face her: she looked absolutely distraught. What had gotten into her? “You can’t take…” Harmony trailed off in response to the clueless looks Lorne, Wesley and I were all giving her.

“Harmonica, are you alright?” Lorne walked over to lean on the desk, looking concerned.

“Yes, Harmony, you’re acting a little funny.” I frowned. “Is something the matter?”

 

“I…” Harmony looked at Lorne, then at the three of us despairingly. “But… it was… they were… he had… you just…” Harmony slumped to the desk and made a frustrated noise.

“Fred,” Wesley looked at me, mystified expression on his face. “Would you be alright to take care of Harmony? I think Lorne needs my help.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, a familiar feeling of icy disappointment sluicing through me. “I can do that.”

“Wesley,” I heard Lorne say as they walked away. “I’d like one of your shamans to work some mojo on one of the actors in an upcoming film. We really need him to be just a few inches taller…”

 

“Harmony?” I said questioningly after a few seconds, her face pressed into the desk.

“Stupid Lorney Tunes.” Harmony muttered dejectedly.

“Harmony,” I frowned. “I’m not sure what Lorne did to upset you, but I’m sure he didn’t-”

“You two were being so cute!” Harmony lifted her head off the desk to look at me sulkily, arms thrown up in the air. “With the nerdy flirting and the board games challenge and the ‘combat training session’ and you were gonna get coffee and Lorne just… he…” Oh dammit, Harmony had seen it. 

 

Why had Harmony used air quotes?

 

“What are you talking about?” I tried to keep from flushing. “Wesley and I… we were just… I was just…” I trailed off in response to the utterly exasperated look Harmony was giving me. I swallowed. “Was I… is it that obvious?” I murmured.

“Clearly not obvious enough for some people.” Harmony gestured rudely in the direction Lorne had walked off. “Remember, we had our girl talk! I _knew_ it was Knox and Wes… and now it’s just Wes.” Harmony smiled slyly. “And you’re reeling him in like a pro.”

I snorted. “If by that you mean ‘constantly having him slip through my fingers’ then yeah, I’m reelin’ him in like a pro.”

“Aww, Fred.” Harmony smiled at me sympathetically. “He’ll catch on. That guy is _crazy_ for you.”

“Well, he’s certainly driving _me_ crazy.” I murmured, feeling a familiar stab of frustration at the thought that another opportunity had just been snatched from me. “He’s just… he’s being impossible.”

“Yeah.” Harmony sighed, then brightened. “But you two are _so_ cute together. I don’t even have a soul and I can tell you two are cute! At least you have your date later today!”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “We do. Although with my luck, he’ll end up leaving early for some noble reason or avoid touching me at all during training in order to be chivalrous. I swear, sometimes I feel like I need to lock him in with me.” Harmony nodded slowly.

“Well, y’know.” Harmony shrugged. “If you really want to let him know how you feel, there’s an easy way to do it. Plan B.”

“Go on.” I said with no small amount of trepidation.

“When the time comes for him to show up to training, be there waiting for him.” Harmony paused. “Naked.”

 

I’d never walked away from anyone faster, or with more red in my cheeks.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

“You’re holding back.” I panted accusingly, keeping both fists up as Wesley and I circled clockwise.

“No, you’re just better than you think.” Wesley countered, lunging forwards at me. I brought up my right hand to block his blow, then jabbed his shoulder with my left fist. Wesley stumbled away and I took advantage of the opening to score two more hits. Sparring was certainly one of the more fun activities, even if I was sure Wesley was going easy on me. 

 

“Nice work.” Wesley nodded, annoyingly unfazed. He didn’t even look particularly worn out! I, on the other hand, was almost ready to collapse into a ball of jelly. I was drenched in sweat, the few strands of hair I hadn’t dragged back into a ponytail stuck to my skin, the light t-shirt and shorts I’d changed into to train were damp and practically glued to me. If Wesley kept working me like this, he was going to have to carry me out of here.

 

Which didn’t sound so bad, come to think of it.

 

“Thanks.” I smiled. “I have a good teacher.”

Now it was Wesley’s turn to grin. “And a great deal of natural talent.”

“You’ll make me blush.” I warned him, then lunged in for an attack of my own which Wesley parried, then responded to by jabbing lightly at my side. I winced and stumbled backwards, winded. I waved Wesley away when he took an awkward half-step forwards, panic beginning to spread onto his face. “I’m fine.” I gasped.

 

“Sorry.” Wesley muttered.

“It’s combat training Wesley.” I rolled my eyes. “I signed up for some bumps and scrapes.” 

Wesley looked sceptical. “Why don’t we practice escaping the holds one more time, then call it a day?”

“Sure.” I smiled. Wesley looked grateful. I turned away and walked to the edge of the room, bending to pick up my bottle of water. God, I felt so sweaty and uncomfortable. I took a long gulp of the water, then had an idea. I unscrewed the cap, held the bottle up high, then tipped it over my head.

 

The water crashed down over me and I spluttered, feeling my clothes become even more drenched and my hair soaked. “That,” I muttered, putting down the bottle and rubbing my arms. “Looks a lot more refreshing in the movies.”

Wesley chuckled and tossed me a towel. I nodded gratefully and dried my face quickly, then walked back over to Wesley. I noticed his eyes lingering for a second on my figure and glanced down, suppressing a grin: one feature of light combat clothes and a lot of sweat and water was that those clothes tended to stick pretty close to you. I wasn’t exactly immodest but… well, suffice to say I was leaving less than normal to Wesley’s imagination.

 

“Right then,” Wesley coughed and I grinned. “Shall we see if you remember how to get out of some of the holds?”

“Sure.” I nodded. Wesley slowly, hesitantly moved towards me and put me in one of the holds we’d practiced earlier, one hand gripping the back of my head tightly and pushing me off-balance, the other pinning my arms. 

 

“You started with a tough one.” I noted once he was finished. I could feel Wesley’s warmth pressed up against me from behind, detected Wesley’s scent (tinged with only the slightest aroma of sweat, despite our long workout) and could even feel the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck. It took a great effort of will not to deliberately lean backwards into his chest, or slip my hands into his, because being this close to Wesley and not being able to act on how I felt was _torture_.

 

“I did.” Wesley replied. “I’m making you work for it.”

I blinked, then I burst out laughing. Oh, Wesley. “You have no idea.” I managed to say eventually, shaking my head ruefully.

“Pardon?” Wesley asked. I sighed: how was he so clueless?

 

I neglected to answer, deciding instead to try and break his hold. I closed my eyes for a second, reviewing the sequence of moves Wesley had taught me. I managed to work one arm enough out of his grip to send my elbow back into Wesley’s stomach, then followed up by breaking out of his grip on my head and spinning round to shove him back playfully. Wesley stumbled away, breathing heavily but smiling. “Nicely done, Fred.” 

 

I bowed, grinning. Wesley chuckled and copied the motion. I skipped over to him and, on impulse, reached out to take one of his hands with both of mine. “Thank you.” I said quietly, looking up into Wesley’s soft blue eyes. “For this. I feel much safer now.”

“It was my pleasure.” Wesley replied softly, smiling ever so slightly but averting his gaze from me. 

“Mine too.” I smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. For a moment, Wesley was paralysed. Then he squeezed back. Satisfied, I relinquished my hold. “So…” I said slowly.

 

“Jenga?” Wesley suggested.  
“Jenga.” I agreed, walking over to where I’d carefully put the box next to my water bottle (I wasn’t risking it mysteriously going missing or something and having to call off our game. I was taking _no_ chances at this point).

 

Wesley and I carefully set up the tower, then I calmly removed the bottom middle brick and set it on top. A few dozen moves later, I watched anxiously as Wesley painstakingly slowly removed acentre brick and smugly placed it on the left hand side of the tower, then leaned back and smiled, gesturing to the tower. “Your move.”

 

I looked over the tower mournfully: not a single good move. I pouted slightly and saw the corners of Wesley’s mouth quirk upwards in response. “You’re mean.” I said accusingly, scooting up close to the tower and leaning around it, carefully cataloguing its position. I eyed up one brick in particular, then did some quick calculations. I was out of practice with my Jenga physics calculations, but if I correctly remembered the mass and dimensions of these things than that meant…

 

I slowly teased the brick out, starting with my left hand then swapping to my right, before carefully setting it down on top of the tower and smiling smugly. I scooted back. “Your mo-”

 

It happened in slow motion. The tower shifted ever so slightly to one side. Then it gave up any pretence at vertical stability and crashed over, bricks scattering everywhere. I glowered, glaring accusingly at the brick I’d moved. Dammit. I’d been so sure that was going to work. “Best two out of three?” Wesley’s voice snapped me out of my reverie and I looked up to see him looking at me nervously. I guess he didn’t want to leave just yet either. Which was fine by me.

“Get ready to go down.” I winked and began gathering up the bricks.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I rubbed my arms with my hands, feeling goosebumps beneath my fingertips. While my attire had been perfect for the heat and sweat of combat training, it was less suited to sitting down in an air conditioned building playing Jenga. Still, I was _sure_ I hadn’t been this cold a few games of Jenga ago. I must just be imagining things… but I wouldn’t mind slipping out of here quickly to go to the locker room and maybe throw on my normal clothes.

 

Or steal the jumper Wesley had been wearing earlier today and changed out of.

 

Wesley examined the tower critically. “I believe…” He said slowly. “That you have me beaten.”

“Maybe.” I admitted, surveying the tower - our tallest yet - critically. “I reckon the third row from the top is your best bet. Wesley looked at it sceptically and rubbed his chin.

 

“Well, either way, at least I gave you a run for your money.” Wesley grinned at me.

“You did.” I agreed, grinning back. “Better than you did back in the day, if I recall correctly.”

“You do.” Wesley smiled wistfully. “I seem to remember you winning almost all of our Jenga tournaments.”

“Well…” I shrugged. “Not really fair to call them tournaments. The competition was a bit lacking…”

“Oh, it was?” Wesley’s eyes flashed dangerously and he grinned. “Well, my sincerest apologies.”

“Not you!” I laughed. “Gunn and Angel never cared enough about the game to want to win. And Cordy usually spent half the time reading a fashion magazine.”

“True.” Wesley agreed, then sighed and looked back to the tower. His hand slowly moved down almost to the very bottom, stopping on the lowest level.

“Wesley, that’s suicide!” I gasped, staring incredulously as he reached out to grip the leftmost brick on that level (the only other brick being the rightmost one). “What are you doing?”

“Practicing.” He murmured, eyes narrowed. He wiggled the brick out. The tower stayed standing. I blinked.

 

I lay down on the floor and stared disbelievingly at the tower, now supported only on one side. I rubbed my eyes as Wesley put the brick gently on top. “Now you go for the other one.” Wesley suggested. I frowned and reached out to the other one, not bothering with subtlety as I tugged it out from beneath the tower. The tower was now hovering, entirely stable, an inch or two off the floor. I put my brick on top and raised an eyebrow at Wesley. 

 

“Telekinesis spell?” I questioned. Wesley nodded, and only now did I notice the sweat beading his brow. “That must require a lot of concentration.” I returned to a cross-legged seating position, resting my chin on one of my hands as I examined the tower.

“It does.” Wesley grimaced.

“Well,” I reached out to push the tower on one corner, causing it to spin gently in mid-air. “It’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” Wesley shot me a grin. “Took a lot of practice.”

“I hope you haven’t been using telekinesis in our other Jenga games.” I teased. “Because if I beat you 11-10 with magic on your side, that’s kind of embarrassing.”

Wesley chuckled. “I swear, I didn’t. On my honour.”  
“Alright, I believe you.” I smiled at Wesley, then reached round to the back of my head to remove my hairband, letting my hair out of the ponytail. I shook my head slightly, letting my hair fall down normally and I saw the tower waver slightly mid-air.

 

Ooh. This could be fun.

 

I stretched both my arms overhead, pretending to close both eyes and moving my head from side to side, letting out a false groan of relief. The tower dropped almost half an inch before Wesley caught it, slowly raising it back to normal height. I couldn’t suppress a smile: even if I knew how Wesley - obliviousness aside - felt about me, it was nice to have these little reminders of just how easily I could drive him to distraction. But I’d teased him long enough.

 

“So, how do you feel about dinner?” I asked casually, opening my eyes to look directly into his. I hid my smile behind one hand as the tower collapsed near instantly, bricks tumbling to the floor in a mini-avalanche. I continued talking. “I, for one, am famished after our combat training and mental exertion, and could do with a meal.”

“I’d like dinner too.” Wesley nodded. “I was thinking I might-”

 

I decided not to let him finish that sentence. “Head out for a meal with me?” I suggested. Wesley blinked. “There’s this cool new takeaway place a couple of blocks over. I thought we could swing round, check out the food. My interns have been raving about it.”

“That,” Wesley blinked and smiled shyly. “Sounds lovely.”

“Great!” I stood up and turned on my heel to hide my smile as I headed for the doors. “Shall we go back to my place or yours?” I heard the sound of surprised spluttering behind me and my smile widened as I reached the doors to the training room. It didn’t matter whose place we headed back to: both were private, well stocked with pretexts for conversation and - most importantly - both had _very_ comfy sofas. I took the door handles and made to open the door.

 

The doors didn’t move. I frowned and tried again. Nothing. “Umm…”

Wesley moved up to the doors, brushing past my side to do so. I shivered and was acutely reminded of how cold I was in this room. And of how warm Wesley felt. I stayed next to him, enjoying the body heat he was putting out. Wesley grabbed the door handles and made to open the door. Nothing.

 

“I didn’t know these doors locked.” I frowned.

“They don’t.” Wesley muttered, taking a few steps backward - I winced as my heat source vanished - before charging at the door and slamming a kick into it. Wesley stumbled away, cursing softly and rubbing his leg. 

“Weird.” I murmured, running one hand over the handles. “Could it be magically sealed?”

“Let me check.” Wesley stepped up to the door again, and his hand glowed with a soft green light as he moved it carefully up and down the crack between the double doors. The light faded and he made to open the doors again.

 

They remained resolutely closed. “Not magically locked.” Wesley frowned. “And there’s no mechanical lock on the door.”

“We could break the glass?” I gestured to the opaque glass windows, looking around at the assortment of bludgeoning weapons the training room was stocked with. 

“It’s magically reinforced.” Wesley muttered, glaring at the doors. “And the doors themselves are the same. To prevent damage from training exercises.”

“So…” I felt my stomach sinking. “We’re stuck?”

“It appears that way.” Wesley murmured, then stepped up the door, cupped both hands to his mouth and yelled. “HELP!” I joined in, beating on the door and yelling for help, but with an icy certainty that takeaway food on my sofa with Wesley was no longer on the agenda.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I drew my legs up to my chest and shivered unpleasantly. We’d stopped calling for help half an hour ago. “Maybe they want us to freeze to death.” I mumbled, teeth on the verge of chattering. “I’m sure the air conditioning wasn’t this cold in here when we were training.” I saw my breath mist in the air in front of me and blinked. Really cold then.

“It definitely wasn’t.” Wesley looked at me helplessly, then glared at the doors, hands balling into fists. God, I was freezing. I hugged my legs tighter against my chest, desperate to salvage a little more warmth. 

I closed my eyes. “Wesley,” I murmured, feeling another shiver pass through me. “I… I’m really cold.”

A second later, I heard a crashing noise and jerked my eyes open, looking at the door. Wesley had grabbed an axe off the wall and was laying into the door with pure relentless savagery, axe crunching into the wood over and over, but failing to make a dent. 

 

“Wesley,” I frowned, teeth chattering. “That’s… magically reinforced. You’ll never get through it.”

“I will.” He growled, unleashing another flurry of axe hits. After another few minutes, Wesley was panting. 

“How cold do you think it is?” I muttered.

“I’d say about zero degrees celsius.” Wesley suggested, rubbing his hands together vigorously. “Perhaps colder. Why the bloody hell does the air conditioning in here go down below freezing?”

“I imagine so they can have demons fight in here from colder dimensions.” I shivered. “Quite… ingenious… actually…” I felt my eyelids sliding shut.

 

“FRED!” Wesley’s voice snapped me back to alertness.

I blinked. “Huh?” 

“Stay awake!” Wesley pleaded, and I must have been seeing things, because it was zero degreesor something in here and it looked like Wesley was pulling off the thin t-shirt he’d donned for our training. Huh. That was a nice view. Chiselled. “Put this on.” Wesley handed me the shirt.

“But you need it!” I protested: it was freezing in here, he couldn’t go topless!

“No arguments.” Wesley said warningly. I nodded and pulled it on, smiling slightly at the extra layer. I already felt a little better.

 

But not much.

 

Wesley snatched up the axe and a few seconds later he was back to hammering the doors. This time, he showed no signs of stopping. After a few minutes I was feeling cold again. Maybe even colder than before. How was that possible?

 

“Wesley?” I said nervously, swallowing, trying to focus on his face rather than the muscles rippling under his back.

“Fred?” He turned to face me instantly. I beckoned him over. He dropped the axe and sprinted over to me, going down on one knee so he was almost at my height. “What is it?”

I reached out to grab his hand, whimpering at how toasty warm he felt. I threaded my fingers through his, relishing the return of feeling in my fingertips. “You’re warm.” I said quietly, and I felt myself flush. “And… and I’m _really_ cold.”

Wesley blinked. “Fred, I-”

“You’re not breaking that door.” I shivered and looked at Wesley pleadingly. “ _Please_ warm me up.” I held out both arms. For a second or two, Wesley was utterly motionless.

 

“Of course, Fred.” Wesley said softly and he gently wrapped me in his arms, pulling me into a hug. I let out a sigh of happiness as he did so: he was so warm. Like a little oven. I put my armsaround Wesley’s chest and smiled as I felt my goosebumps beginning to dissipate. I wriggled into a more comfortableposition, laying my legs alongside his so I’d benefit from heat there and resting my cheek on his delightfully warm shoulder.

“Thank you.” I breathed, shutting my eyes and worming myself tighter against him, at once desperate for more warmth and at the same time gloriously, wonderfully _happy_ at being this close to Wesley. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s fine.” Wesley whispered softly, and his hand rubbed mine softly. I purred softly at the additional warmth generated. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I think you’re right.” I smiled, snuggling up to him a little better. “Thank you.” I let myself relax against Wesley, revelling in his impossibly comfortable embrace and daydreaming happily about a time when we wouldn’t only be cuddling.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I was startled awake by a loud banging. “HEY!” Angel’s voice rang out. It was coming from through the doors! “Anybody in there?”  
“We are!” Wesley yelled. “We’re stuck!”

“Gimme a few seconds… somebody’s wrapped a crowbar around the door handles very tightly…”

“Oh my God, are we getting out?” I breathed. 

“I think so.” Wesley smiled shakily.

 

The double doors to the room burst open and Angel marched in, a _very_ bent metal rod in one hand. “What the hell happened?” He frowned, then looked at us and blinked. “And why is Wesley half-dressed?”

Wesley flushed and I sheepishly pulled off his shirt, handing it back. “We came here for a training session.” I explained, stumbling to my feet but not letting go of Wesley. “Then when we tried to leave, the doors wouldn’t open.”

“And they’re magically reinforced, so we couldn’t break them down.” Wesley continued. “And for some reason the blasted air conditioning reduced the temperature in here to below freezing.”

“So we got cold.” I shivered. “Really cold.”

 

Angel frowned. “Who locked you in here?”  
“We don’t know.” Wesley and I replied in unison.

“And how long have you been in here?” Angel asked.

“What time is it?” I asked.

Angel checked his watch. “It’s… four in the morning.”

“Then nine hours.” Wesley said wearily. “About six of them spent here unwillingly, at sub-zero temperatures.”

“Are you two alright?” Angel asked, stepping forwards to examine us.

 

“I think Fred’s fine.” Wesley answered, examining me carefully and eliciting a different kind of shiver. “But we could both do with some blankets and hot soup.”

“Yes please.” I nodded eagerly. “Hot soup sounding very good.”

 

Which was how I ended up sitting on the sofa in Angel’s office, buried under a miniature mountain of blankets, hot water bottle by my feet, wearing Wesley’s jumper and greedily slurping down soup. “So warm.” I smiled happily, pulling the blankets a little closer. “So good to be warm.”

“Agreed.” Wesley nodded from the other end of the sofa and returned to his own soup. I nervously extended my legs down the sofa under the blankets, feeling Wesley stiffen as my feet reached his warm legs. After a second he relaxed and I moved my feet to rest in his lap.

 

Much better.

 

“There’s no CCTV on that floor.” Angel glowered, slamming down the phone on his desk. “And somebody did change the air conditioning settings for that room, but they could have done that from any number of points.”

“How cold was it?” I asked, curious.

“Minus five. Celsius.” Angel replied, frustrated. I shivered at the memory of it.

“I live in California for a reason.” I pouted. “It’s never supposed to go negative.”

“Quite right.” Wesley muttered. “Still, at least we’re both fine.”

“This seems more like a prank than anything else.” I suggested. “Somebody having a laugh at our expense.”

“Well,” Wesley growled, shooting me a protective glance. “If I find them, they’ll die laughing.”

“Oh, hush.” I smiled at him, feeling a giddy thrill at his protectiveness (even though I didn’t need it). “I’m fine. You made sure of that.”

Wesley turned bright red and looked very studiously away from me. “It was nothing.”

“No,” I shook my head and rolled my eyes, voice exasperated. “Wesley! I was freezing cold and you kept my warm, _and_ you gave me your shirt, _and_ you didn’t care how cold it made you. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Wesley mumbled, shooting me a glance, then looking away.

“I won’t worry about it.” I scooted up to him on the sofa. “But I _will_ remember it.” I pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, smiling as his stubble tickled my chin.

 

Now wasn’t the right time. Maybe if we’d had takeaway… maybe I could have done something then. But after this train wreck and - if I wasn’t mistaken - the guilt ( _absurd_ guilt) Wesley was feeling for cuddling me to keep me warm as a result, tonight wouldn’t work. I was _not_ going to wait much longer. But for tonight I was happy to slurp hot soup, stay under the blankets and cuddle up on the sofa with the man of my dreams.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I stretched and padded out of Angel’s office, rubbing my eyes. I’d fallen asleep on Angel’s sofa for a few hours (waking up to find Wesley gone, note of copious apology left behind) but now I _really_ needed some restful sleep in my own bed.

 

“So, how did it go?” I turned to face Harmony entering the office for the day, blinking sleepily. She had an impossibly wide smile on her face.

“Huh?” I blinked. 

Harmony’s smile widened. “You seem a little bamboozled Fred, is everything okay?”

“Of course.” I mumbled, rubbing my arms. I could really do without Harmony’s brand of nonsense right now.

“I meant your training session with Wesley!” Harmony grinned. “Did you follow Plan B?”

“What? No!” I blushed, staring at my feet. “Harmony, I-”

“Oh, I just gotta know now!” Harmony rushed up to me and spoke very quietly. “Did it work?”

“What?” What was Harmony on about now? Had what worked?

Harmony smiled slyly. “Locking you two in together and making sure both of you got _very_ cold. Even I know body heat is the best way to stay warm! So… did you two…”

 

Harmony. _Of course._ What was it with her and trapping me in rooms? “No!” I grumbled, wanting more than anything to just _sleep_ , too tired to be cross _._

Harmony looked crestfallen. “What do you mean it didn’t work?” She called after me as I stumbled into the elevator. Then she yelled as the doors closed. “Just go with Plan B!”

 

Frankly at this point, with Wesley still totally clueless and my own patience fast running out, Plan B was starting to look scarily reasonable.


	4. Lesson Four: Taking Advantage of Semi-Fortuitous Turns of Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred gets injured and wants Wesley to keep her company.

The machine monitoring my life signs beeped regularly. Guess my heartbeat was nice and steady. That was something. I mean, my throat felt like sandpaper, I couldn’t move my legs and my stomach was feeling distinctly rebellious, but at least my heartbeat was regular. I snorted.

 

“What is it, Fred?” Wesley asked, ceasing his pacing for a moment to walk closer to my bedside.

“My heartbeat just sounds all regular and it made me think of a silly joke from when I was younger.” I explained, smiling shyly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me the joke.” Wesley said softly. “Please.”

I shook my head and sighed. How could I possibly refuse those puppy eyes? “Yeah, we all want to hear it.” Spike nodded encouragingly. “C’mon, pet.”

 

“An Olympian athlete is at a medical checkup. The doctor checks his vitals and says ‘Everything’s normal.’” I smiled at Wesley. “The athlete says ‘Normal? That’s unacceptable! Check me again!’” 

Wesley snorted with laughter. “Good one.”

“Not really.” I shook my head, feeling myself flush slightly as I leaned back onto the pillows. “Now… you tell me a joke.”

Wesley nodded. “Two chemists walk into a bar. The first chemist orders a glass of H2O. The second chemist says ‘I’ll have a glass of H2O too.’ The second chemist dies.”

I giggled. “Silly chemists. Should have studied physics.”

“Definitely.” Wesley nodded seriously. Behind Wesley, Spike rolled his eyes. Neither showed any sign of leaving.

 

“You know you don’t have to stay here, right?” I reminded them. “I’m gonna be here a while.”

“Nonsense.” Spike shook his head. “It’s just a little poison. Percy here already figured out the antidote and got it to you a few hours ago. You’ll be hopping and skipping in no time.”

“I really doubt that.” I mumbled, frowning as I tried again - unsuccessfully - to move my legs.

 

“You know,” Spike grinned. “You should feel honoured, really. That you’re the one who got an assassin sent after her.”

“Lucky me.” I rolled my eyes at Spike. “I’m special.”

“Course you are.” Spike kept grinning. “And once Angel and Gunn upstairs get the name of this guy’s boss out of him, we’re gonna head right over there and kill the ever-loving crap out of him.”

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” I smiled sarcastically. Spike laughed.

“You should really be congratulated for fighting it off.” Wesley said quietly. “You did an excellent job.”

“Oh, it was easy.” I smirked at him. “Just busted out some of those sweet moves you taught me two days ago. Stupid demon only managed to cut me once, just unfair that the blade was poisoned.”

“Yes, it does seem rather unsporting.” Wesley agreed.

“Well, I cheated too.” I grinned at him. “I had you to work out how to fix me.”

“Because you look so much better due to my ministrations.” Wesley muttered, gesturing to the hospital bed.

 

“Without you, she’d be dead mate.” Spike pointed out. “So stop whingeing.”

“And I’ll have _you_ know, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.” I sat up slightly straighter in bed and gazed at him haughtily. “That I look _incredible_.” I winked.

Wesley smiled weakly. “I suppose we’re in agreement on that.”

“Doctor Burkle?” The doctor walked back into the room, clipboard in hand.

“Doctor Hill.” I nodded politely. “What’s the damage?”

“Well, the good news is that you’ll live.” The doctor talked quickly, looking between Spike and Wesley nervously. “The bad news is that you’re going to be bed-bound for a little while.”

“A little while?” I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Exactly how long would that be?”

“About two days.” The doctor said tentatively.

“Two days? Stuck in bed?” I groaned. Typical. Just perfect.

“But no long-term effects?” Wesley questioned. “No other risks?”

“None.” The doctor shook his head, turning to Wesley. “The antidote counteracted the worst of the poison, she just needs time to recover.”

 

“Two days.” I muttered once he’d left. “That’s so unfair. What am I supposed to do for two days?”

“Read, I imagine.” Spike suggested. “Or maybe you could catch up on some sleep. Or learn a foreign language.”

“Oh, stop it.” I muttered. “Can’t you see I’m trying to mope?”

“Copy that, love.” Spike held up both hands in a gesture of surrender, grinning. “I’ll be outside.”

“You can go home if you want.” I told him.

Spike shook his head. “No chance. I’m guarding this door until we know the rest of these demon muckers are dealt with. Nobody’s getting past this vampire.” Spike swept dramatically from the room, closing the door behind him.

 

“I suppose I should be going too.” Wesley said, voice reluctant. “Leave you in peace.”

“Stick around, Wesley.” I asked quietly.

Wesley blinked. “If that’s what you want.” I nodded wordlessly. Wesley nodded and dragged a chair over from the corner to sit at my bedside.

“I don’t suppose you have a pack of cards?” I asked hopefully. “Or some novels? Or maybe some science journals?”

Wesley shook his head. “One moment.” He removed his phone from his pocket, dialled a number and held it up to his ear. “Jennifer? I have an urgent task that has to be taken care of. Yes, immediately. I need some packs of playing cards, as many travel editions of board games as you can hunt down, a selection of romance and sci-fi novels and the most recently published physics journals. I need those things brought to medical, room…”

“Eleven C.” I smiled.

“… Eleven C.” Wesley continued. “As quick as you can. Thank you.” He hung up. 

“Thank you, Wesley.” I closed my eyes and leaned back on the pillows. “For staying here.”

“Well, I could hardly be outdone by Spike, could I?” Wesley said ruefully.

I giggled. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Well, he uses more hair gel than me…”

“Fair point.” I agreed, smiling slightly. “You don’t have a lot of work to do, do you? I’m not… keeping you?” I asked hesitantly. Because as much as I wanted Wesley here, I couldn’t hold him hostage here for two days if it meant he was going to be buried under a mountain of work afterwards.

“Not at all.” Wesley said soothingly. “I’ve been keeping up with recent developments quite handily.”

 

I managed to stop myself snorting: because Wesley was quite clueless when it came to certain, very _important_ recent developments, despite my best efforts. And my plan to lure him out for dinner after work today was now a bust (getting attacked by demon assassins right before you got to the office tended to mess up your plans for the day)… but maybe there was a way to turn this to my advantage. If Wesley really did want to stay here…

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I frowned at Wesley’s - severely diminished - hand of cards, then looked back to my own. “I really don’t think you need to worry any more, Fred.” Wesley chuckled. “I’m quite a few points behind with only eight rounds remaining.”

“Five points behind.” I replied, biting my lip as I compared my hand of cards to the eight cards I knew were in Wesley’s hand. “So it’s still just possible for you to win.”

“Mind telling me how?” Wesley asked hopefully. I shook my head and smirked. Wesley sighed. “You know, your photographic memory does make playing games against you slightly unfair.”

“Not all games.” I countered. “I’m famously bad at Ludo. And Monopoly.”

“That’s true.” Wesley agreed. “Because those are games where you can’t use your photographic memory to keep exact track of what everyone else has and use that against them. Like you can in Wist.”

 

“You’ve done pretty well for yourself, considering.” I pointed out, then played the seven of hearts. I crossed my fingers underneath the duvet.

“I appreciate you saying that.” Wesley pursed his lip, looked at his own hand thoughtfully and played the six of hearts. I scowled: dammit. Now he could still win. “Your point, Fred.”

I collected the cards with bad grace and returned to studying my hand of cards. Three hearts cards, all lower than the one in his possession. One spade left, and he had two both of higher value. No clubs left for either of us, and three diamonds for me, to his four. 

 

“Are you feeling any better?” Wesley asked gently. I attempted to wiggle my toes, without success. 

“Still no feeling in my legs.” I answered. “But my arms feel better. And I think I should be able to eat something soon.”

“And your throat?” Wesley questioned.

“Still sore.” I confessed.

“Ice cream it is. When you’re ready. If that’s what you’d like?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “I’d love some ice cream. In a bit. Gotta win this game first.”

“Very confident.” Wesley raised an eyebrow. I played my lowest heart and Wesley won the point. He mused for a second, then played a diamond. One I could beat. 

“I was a second ago.” I agreed, winning the point and playing one of my hearts. Wesley looked crestfallen. “Now I’ve won.”

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I glanced over at Wesley, peeking over the top of my science journal. The room hadn’t changed much in the last couple of hours. The steady beep of the heart-rate monitor in the background. Wesley’s chair pulled up next to my bed. The main change was that a small pile of books, journals and travel editions of board games had been stacked up in the corner closest to Wesley, retrievable upon request.

 

Wesley was reading one of Wolfram and Hart’s source books, eyes lit with intense focus as they ran over the pages. He was probably buried in some ancient tome of eldritch lore, dealing with some complicated spell-work for a client. Wesley turned a page and his eyes flicked to me, lit now with surprise. He’d spotted me. “Do you need something, Fred?” He asked.

“No,” I shook my head and blushed. “I… I was just wondering what you were reading.”

“Nothing interesting, I assure you.” Wesley frowned.

“Can I see the book?” I held out one hand, putting the journal down on my lap. “I never got to use one of these special magical books.”

 

“Of course.” Wesley leaned over and gently handed me the book. I gripped it with both hands, marvelling at the weight: it really did feel like there was an entire library’s worth of knowledge in here. Or maybe I just felt weak because of the poison.

“So I just hold up the spine…” I closed the book and held the spine up to my mouth. “And say the title of a book?” Wesley nodded, looking at me curiously.

 

“Twenty-thousand leagues under the sea.” I whispered, then lowered the book onto my lap and opened it. Familiar words materialised in black ink on the pages. I traced a paragraph with my hand, smiling and closing my eyes, imagining myself - as I did when I was younger - on the Nautilus, exploring the world in a secret submarine, seeing sights and wonders that the world above had never even considered might exist. 

 

“A tale of exploration and discovery.” Wesley smiled. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“And yet you are?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“More by the fact that the source books can call up things from outside Wolfram and Hart’s archives.” Wesley leaned forwards, expression thoughtful. “It implies a much more powerful enchantment than I imagined.”

“Unless there’s a literature section in Wolfram and Hart’s library.” I pointed out. “No reason they can’t keep some normal books in their library of ancient inter-dimensional secrets.”

“Fair point. Only one way to find out.” Wesley mused, gently prying the book from my hands. I raised an eyebrow and looked at him expectantly. “Diary of Winifred Burkle.” Wesley whispered to the book and opened it.

 

I felt my heart stutter and stared at the book, horrified. I wrote all my most intimate secrets in my diary! I couldn’t let Wesley see it! Particularly if he looked at more recent pages, then he’d see… things about him. I cut off my train of thought, noting with relief that the pages were blank. “Not funny.” I said warningly, feeling a relieved smile sneak onto my face as I snatched the book back and shut it, hugging it to my chest.

 

“But it does resolve our question.” Wesley shrugged, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You were right.”

“Maybe.” I bent down and whispered to the book. “Journal of Wesley-Wyndam Pryce, year beginning two-thousand-and-one.” I opened it and after a second’s pause, familiar messy handwriting scrawled itself across the pages. Wesley blinked. 

 

“I’m guessing,” I looked at Wesley. “That since I have more than one diary, you’d have to specify a specific one. Like I just did.” I tightened my grip on the book and began to read.

“I’m going to be wasting my time trying to get that off you, aren’t I?” Wesley sighed, leaning back on his chair. I nodded, then let out a quiet gasp as I felt Wesley’s hand rub against my thighs through the blankets. I glanced down to see his fingers close around the science journal I’d discarded earlier and retrieve it. I took a deep breath, skin tingling. I heard the beeping of the heart rate monitor in the background speed up, which just about summed up how I felt. Wesley was apparently oblivious to my reaction, reading the science journal.

 

I distracted myself by reading Wesley’s journal. Wesley’s first meeting with Harmony… I snorted: I wouldn’t have thought Wesley knew so many cuss words, or that he would even consider hiring Harmony after reading about what she’d done to one of his precious first edition books. There was Pylea…

 

And there was me. 

 

Chronicling our first ever research session together, when we’d figured out a way back from Pylea using the priests’ holy books. Wesley had held off on actually describing me until the very end of that segment:

 

_Exceptionally intelligent. Incredibly sweet. Very beautiful._

 

I blinked. That couldn’t be right. I’d been wearing a sackcloth and living in a cave for five years, unwashed and unkempt. He can’t have thought that I was _beautiful_ , that was absurd… and yet there was the proof of it. I heard that annoying beeping noise speed up again, and ran one finger over those six words on the page. I’d made such an impression on Wesley when we first met, and I’d barely even noticed him. In my defence, I hadn’t been in my right mind. But I’d still been a fool. 

 

“Are you alright, Fred?” 

“Huh?” I looked over at Wesley.

“Your vitals have changed?” Wesley murmured, turning the machine to examine the display. “Your heart-rate is spiking.”

“Really?” I turned away to hide my blush, snapping the book shut so he wouldn’t see what I’d been reading.

“Yes.” Wesley’s brow furrowed. “Perhaps the poison has a secondary effect I’m not aware of.”

“No, it’s not that.” I shook my head. Wesley turned to look at me, frowning. I took a deep breath. “You just have that effect on m-”

 

The door to the room opened and I jumped, turning to look at the entrance. Angel. “Fred!” He walked up to the bed. “How are you doing?”

I’d be doing a lot better if he stopped ruining all my opportunities! “I’m fine, thanks.” I smiled weakly.

“Great.” Angel grinned and turned to Wesley. “Wes, we got the location of their base. Apparently they’ve got magical defences in place. I’d appreciate you tagging along.”

Wesley hesitated, then looked at me. 

 

I sighed. I wanted him _here_ but… could we really trust anyone else to stop a magical booby trap from exploding Angel or Gunn or Spike? “Go ahead.” I smiled. 

Wesley nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Watch out for poisoned blades!” I reminded them. “Those things make you feel really crappy.”

 

Angel and Wesley nodded solemnly and swept from the room. Spike shot me a sympathetic look before he walked off and I pulled the covers up over my head, resisting the urge to groan into my pillow. Even _Spike_ knew about how I felt. Spike, Harmony, Gunn… how could Wesley not know yet?

 

Safely out of sight, I pouted, closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep.

 

\+ + + + + + +

 

I stirred slowly, rolling my shoulders and keeping my eyes firmly shut. My throat and headache felt better at least, even if my legs were still numb. I shifted on the bed, rolling over onto my side and snuggling a bit tighter under the duvet. These beds were pretty comfy, for hospital beds at least. When I’d been in hospital as a girl for spraining my ankle (I’d been _sure_ that jump was doable) the beds certainly hadn’t been this comfy.

 

And the nurses hadn’t been as handsome or as sweet as Wesley was. I wonder if Wesley would be willing to sit with me today? I hoped so. I smiled: being injured wasn’t so bad when I had Wesley to keep me company. To read with or play games or just chat. It was nice. I yawned, stretched my arms above my head and opened my eyes.

 

Wesley was lying down in a bed pushed up right next to mine - since when had there been two beds in this room? - attached to the same drips I was, also hooked up to a monitoring machine and looking right at me. Wesley flushed bright red, turning away from me. I heard the beeping from Wesley’s machine become more rapid.

 

I smiled. “Wesley.” I said calmly.

“Fred?” His tone was resigned.

“Did you get poisoned?” I asked. Wesley nodded reluctantly. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I did warn you. How do you feel?”

“I think you put it best.” Wesley grimaced, gesturing to his condition. “Crappy.”

“Hey, it’s not all bad.” I held up one arm and gestured to the drip there. “We match!”

Wesley chuckled. “That we do.”  


“Well.” I said after a short pause. “No use sitting there feeling sorry for yourself. Let’s have some fun.”

“A game of ‘I, Spy’?” Wesley grinned sardonically.

I rolled my eyes, patting the small bedside table jammed between us. “I was thinking more along the lines of Snap. Something nice and easy seeing as how I’ve just woken up and you presumably have the mother of all headaches.”

“Excellent choice.” Wesley nodded approvingly, adjusting his position slightly. I shuffled the cards and split the deck evenly.

 

It was halfway through the deck when we had our first match. By some miracle - probably Wesley’s reflexes being dulled by the poison - I beat him to the punch, slamming my hand down onto the pile first. But only by a second. Wesley’s hand crashed into mine and I was pleasantly reminded of just how soft and warm his hands were. I smiled slightly wider at him and stuck out my tongue. Both sets of beeping sounds in the room suddenly became more frequent. Wesley shook his head, grinning, and we kept playing.

 

I had a feeling the next two days weren’t gonna be so bad.


	5. Chapter 5

Wesley smiled widely and nodded at me. I mustered up a smile and tried not to look too disappointed. “Thanks.” I smiled, mind whirring. Maybe I could still salvage this. Maybe.  
“Don’t mention it.” Wesley put down the phone, looking pleased with himself. “The least I could do after you spent two days cooped up with me in medical, unable to walk, is call a car to take you home tonight.”

‘The least he could do: how very true that statement was. I was itching to yell at him that those two days spent in medical had been the most fun I’d had all week! Two days not having to worry about work (with the exception of the odd form that I had to sign or lab report to double check) and just sitting with Wesley. Reading to him when his throat was sore, and him returning the favour once he felt better. Playing board games that he always won graciously. Getting to relax and spend some time with him where he didn’t seem to be looking for an excuse to run off and do anything other than let me show him how I felt! I was coming up on two weeks! Two weeks since the bar and he was still oblivious! Completely so, if this stunt with the driver was any indication. If he kept on like this, he was going to make my head explode out of sheer frustration.

“Are you heading off anytime soon?” I asked nonchalantly. “We could carpool. Save some gas, pass the time on the drive back.”  
“No, I think I’m going to be cooped up here most of the night, sadly.” Wesley sighed, not looking up from his desk. Which meant he didn’t see my hands ball into fists or the murderous, disbelieving look I was giving him. “My department fell behind on a few crucial issues without me. Unfortunately my subordinates lack the… dedication of yours.” I winced at the barely veiled reference to Knox. Did Wesley still think we were dating? Surely he couldn’t.

“Oh, well, if you’re sure…” I lingered at the door to the office, shooting Wesley a wide-eyed, hopeful expression, biting my lip to make it as obvious as possible that I wanted him to come with me.  
Wesley looked up at me and smiled. “I am. Good night, Fred.”  
“Good night.” I said cheerfully, trading my hopeful expression for a grumpy pout as I walked out of his office. Flirting with Wesley was not easy. Flirting at Wesley was entirely possible, but he was blind to every bit of it.

“Just give me a break.” I murmured to myself as I walked into the elevator. “Please.” I just needed one piece of luck. I glanced longingly at the door to Wesley’s office as the elevator doors closed in front of me. I promised myself that by the time this case was over and done with, I’d have got Wesley to notice how I felt. I was not going to wait any longer than that.

\+ + + + + + +

The doors to the elevator closed in front of us. I looked at Wesley. Wesley looked at me. 

We both burst out laughing. I collapsed against the wall of the elevator, snorting and giggling. Wesley braced himself against the doors, shaking uncontrollably as he wheezed with laughter. “He’s a puppet.” Wesley gasped, wiping his eyes. “Angel’s a puppet.”  
“He is!” I gasped. “And he’s so cute!” Wesley nodded in agreement, then took several deep breaths in a visible effort to calm himself. I followed suit, standing upright and ‘stumbling’, catching his arm with one hand. Wesley stiffened under my touch and I rubbed his arm affectionately through his jumper sleeve, then straightened up properly and let go.

“Did you see Nina heading for the office as we got in here?” I frowned, only just processing what I’d seen as I walked to the elevator, trying desperately not to collapse into laughter once I was out of Angel’s sight.  
“I think I did.” Wesley frowned. “I can’t imagine that’s going to go well.”  
“Angel’s a centuries old vampire,” I frowned. “I’m sure he can figure out a way to get Nina out of there without offending her or revealing his… condition.”  
“Hopefully.” Wesley nodded. “If not, I’m sure he’ll make it up to her once he’s restored to his usual, grumpy self.”

“Yeah.” I grinned. “So how do we go about doing that?”  
“Well, as Angel said.” The lift doors pinged open and we walked out side-by-side into Practical Science. “The key to this is finding out what they’re doing to the children, how they’re doing it and why.”  
“Well, it’s got something to do with the broadcast.” I mused. “In a few minutes, we’ll have a full-spectrum recording of the show. We can work together on it, do some mystical and scientific analysis, figure out what we’re dealing with?”  
“Good idea.” Wesley nodded. “I’d better double back to my office, grab a source book.”  
I smiled widely. “In that case, I’ll go with-”

“Fred!” I saw Wesley’s jaw tighten as Knox’s voice came from behind me.   
I slowly turned to face Knox and kept my voice utterly, entirely professional. “Knox. What is it?”  
“The, uh, CDC called back.” Knox slowed to a stop a few feet away from me. “Wanted to know if we were still interested in those pathogen samples?”  
“No.” I shook my head. “The epidemic’s mystical in nature.”  
“Oh.” Knox blinked. “Are you sure? I mean, the endocrine evidence was pretty-”  
“New evidence has turned up.” Wesley said evenly. “And Fred, can scientists really just request that obscure and dangerous pathogens be delivered to us here? That seems like a safety risk.”  
“Only I can request them.” I explained, turning back to Wesley. “Don’t worry, I’ve got no plans to unleash a super-plague.”  
“Fred’s got all of us right behind her.” Knox put in. Wesley’s eyes narrowed.

I couldn’t believe this. Male posturing? Seriously? Wesley wasn’t going to respond to my blatant signals, but one conversation with Knox and he’s sniping at him! Unbelievable.

“Knox, could you do me a favour?” I asked. Knox nodded eagerly. “I really need you to pop up to Wesley’s office, grab one of the source books… you remember, the one Wesley loaned me yesterday?” Knox nodded - looking less enthusiastic - and walked off.

“Come on.” I smiled at Wesley. “Let’s go get a workstation prepped for the two of us.” I grabbed his arm and tugged him along. This time, he didn’t stiffen.

\+ + + + + + +

“So they’re draining life force from the children,” I murmured, letting the lab door swing shut behind me.   
“Precisely.” Wesley nodded. “And storing it, presumably inside the object that Angel described.”  
“So we just break the object.” I nodded. “Then the kids get their life force back, and Angel stops being a puppet. So how do we do that?”  
“There’ll be binding magics on the repository. Holding it together,” Wesley explained, pressing the button for the elevator. “I can devise a spell that will break those binding magics, destroy the repository and fix this entire mess.”  
“Which will reverse Angel’s puppet problem?” I questioned.  
“After a few days, yes.” Wesley nodded. “More’s the pity.”  
I giggled. “He is a lot cuter this way. Downright adorable.”  
“Yes.” Wesley smiled at me as I stepped into the lift, then swiftly averted his eyes and murmured. “Adorable.”

Now why couldn’t he have just said that louder and given me an opportunity to act on?

“So, I’m guessing we need to swing by your office?” I posited.  
Wesley nodded. “Yes. We’ll need to head out as soon as possible to stop Framkin from pulling the trigger. I’m going to grab some scrolls and weapons, finalise the spellwork on the way there.”  
“Gotcha.” I nodded. “I’ll tag along.”  
“Sounds grand.” Wesley smiled.

Once we were in his office, I stooped to pick up the jacket I’d ‘accidentally’ left in here yesterday morning so I’d have an excuse to swing by. Wesley was rummaging through a box of scrolls, his jacket slung over one arm. He slipped the scrolls into his satchel, then shrugged into the jacket and smiled at me.

“Nice jacket.” He complimented me. “New?”  
“Yep. It’s very snug.” I smiled. “Plus, lots of pockets. Yours has been through the wringer, huh?”  
Wesley smiled ruefully, eyeing his own jacket. “Yes, it rather has. Lots of battles, injuries and falls. Not to mention fallout from failed spells. It has… sentimental value.”  
“Lots of good memories?” I smiled, leading the way out of the office.  
“Enough.” Wesley replied. “Not as many as I’d like.”  
“Well,” I smiled. “If you want more good memories the only thing to do is make them. If you want, we could-”

But Wesley had missed my last sentence, shouldering his way into Angel’s office. I sighed, composed myself and followed him.

\+ + + + + + +

“Wesley, you get to the Don’t room, destroy the repository.” Angel instructed from his perch on the driver’s seat of the van. Wesley nodded seriously.  
“I’ll go with him.” I volunteered. “Be his backup muscle, in case we run into any demon interference.”  
“Good idea.” Angel nodded, turning to the driver’s seat. “Gunn, with me. We’re on puppet-hunting duty.”

“I hope this goes better than the last time you were my muscle.” Wesley murmured to me.  
I grinned. “I hope so too. Now, remind me again what the mistake you made last time was?” I said pointedly.  
Wesley swallowed. “I should have given you a gun.” He said carefully. With hindsight, I wish I hadn’t blown up at him after his protection remark all those weeks ago. I’d been badly hurt, he’d set up the meeting and (I found out later) Angel had exploded at him over it. Wesley tended to assume that everything bad that happened was his fault, and never took credit for the good things he did. It wasn’t good for him.

With hindsight, I really wish Knox hadn’t interrupted us that night. And I really wish Wesley hadn’t let me leave. I wish I’d offered to walk him home, or he’d asked me to stay a little longer. I wish a lot of things had turned out different. But I had plenty of time to fix them.

I nodded and smiled. “Good. You’ve learned from your mistake. Impressive.”  
“Yes, well…” Wesley said dryly, handing me a pistol. “You made yourself very clear on that front, you’ll be pleased to know.”  
I slipped the pistol into my inside jacket pocket, checking the safety was on. “Pleased as pudding.” I leaned over to look at Wesley’s scroll. “That’s latin, right?”  
“Yes.” Wesley tilted the scroll to give me a better look. I pointedly didn’t stop leaning on him, despite the fact I didn’t need to anymore. “Standard for spells of this nature.”

“This whole situation is anything but standard.” I frowned. “Who heard of demons show-running a kids’ television program? What else do demons secretly run?”  
“Well, out of our clients…” Wesley grimaced. “A great deal of Thesulac demons own large stakes in insurance companies, make sure people feel nice and afraid so they buy insurance to feel better… one of the state senators is a demon in disguise…”  
“I’m glad I didn’t vote for her now…” I grinned. “Knew there was something fishy about her.”  
Wesley chuckled. “Always trust your gut.”  
“Yeah.” I nodded and smiled. “Sometimes the answer is really obvious. You don’t have to look for secret meanings or second-guess yourself. Sometimes people make it really blindingly clear what they want.”  
“Yes.” Wesley blinked, then frowned. “Sorry, what do you mea-”  
“We’re here.” Angel announced, hefting his sword, manic gleam in his eyes. “Stay frosty, people.”

“Wes?” I said quietly as we approached the building. “Stay safe, alright? For me?”  
“I’ll stay safe.” Wesley smiled reassuringly. “You be careful too, alright?”  
“I will be.” I agreed. “But I know you’ll watch out for me.”  
“Yes.” He nodded. “I will.”

\+ + + + + + +

I walked purposefully to Wesley’s office, opened the door and stepped in. Wesley was piling his various scrolls and books back onto his desk. “I just got off the phone.” I smiled widely at Wesley. “Looks like the kids are coming out of their stasis.” I pushed the door firmly shut behind me.  
“Oh. Good.” Wesley stood up straight and smiled contentedly, looking at me. “I think we did some excellent work back there.”  
“I think you’re right.” I let my smile widen, not looking away from him.  
“And now,” Wesley took a single step towards me.

My breath hitched. Finally!

“And now.” I stepped towards him, fighting down the swarm of butterflies in my stomach.

“We’d better get some rest.” Wesley slung his jacket over one shoulder. And this time I couldn’t hide my disappointment, couldn’t fight off the despair and sadness churning inside me. Because this was too much. Wesley and I had gone through too much tragedy, and miscommunication and too many trials for this to stop me. I wouldn’t bottle up my feelings any longer, I refused to hide from them and I would not allow Wesley to remain oblivious to them. I wouldn’t bear this any longer.

I couldn’t.

“No telling when the next crisis will strike.” Wesley finished. The words sounded so far away. 

So when Wesley prepared to walk out - like he had what seemed like a thousand times before these last few weeks - I didn’t let him walk away or try to convince him to stick around or spin the conversation in another direction. I stepped sideways and planted myself firmly in his path, staring right into his eyes, letting the disappointment and longing inside me finally show. I was not going to be coy any longer. Repeating the same thing over and over and expecting another result was the definition of insanity. And (barring one small lapse in a hell dimension) I was not insane. Flirting hadn’t worked.

I needed a new strategy.

Wesley looked surprised.

“You’re just gonna go, aren’t you?” I whispered, looking at him imploringly.  
Wesley frowned. “Fred-”  
No. Not a second longer. “Haven’t you been… sensing anything lately?” I pleaded. “About me? Coming from me?” Wesley just looked confused. I could have cried.

“It didn’t occur to you that something might have changed?” I looked at him meaningfully. Like the fact I’ve been desperate to spend every moment of free time I have with you these past two weeks? “That I… I’m looking at you in a different… I…” Wesley still didn’t get it.

I needed him to understand, why wouldn’t he just understand? How did I show him? “Oh, screw it.” I took a step forwards, finally closing the distance between Wesley and I. I moved one hand up to stroke Wesley’s cheek, leaned forwards into his chest, shut my eyes and pressed a long kiss to his lips. He was soft and warm and he was Wesley… and he didn’t respond at all. 

I tore myself away after a few seconds, staying achingly close to Wesley but removing my lips and transferring my hand from his cheek to his chest. “Umm…” Wesley managed.

“That was a signal.” I breathed. “Okay?” I kept staring into those wonderful, handsome, intelligent, deep, loving eyes.

“Is that… clear enough for you?” I asked, dread pooling in my stomach, keeping my gaze fixed on him.

Which meant I got to see those blue eyes soften from confusion into wonder. I watched a smile overtake Wesley’s face. And I heard him reply, with perfect clarity. “Not even close.” He bent back down towards me and my heart skipped a beat, that horrible anxiety banished from me in an instant. Because I’d known really that Wesley cared for me, but I’d been afraid and so worried and now I didn’t need to be because he was right here, lips pressing against mine, arms winding around me and pulling me into a warm embrace. I wrapped my own arms around him, pulling him into a deeper kiss. 

The best kiss of my life. Wesley’s arms were strong and comforting but not crushing as he drew me gently me into an embrace. He was soft and tender and passionate, and when I pulled away from him - short of breath - he kissed my cheeks and pulled me into a tighter, closer, more wonderful hug.

“Fred…” Wesley murmured, voice hushed and reverential.  
I shivered pleasantly. “Wesley…” I murmured in return and pulled him into another kiss. And this one almost made up for all the hair-pulling frustration, the impossible waiting and the seemingly-endless disappointment.

Almost.

“So,” I smiled up at Wesley as widely as I could. “Still feel like going and getting some rest?”  
“You know,” Wesley’s smile widened in return. “I really, really don’t.”  
“Right answer.” I looked at him meaningfully, because I was not letting him off the hook for the last two weeks. “The first one you’ve managed in quite a while.”  
“I get the feeling I’m about to feel rather embarrassed and mortified.” Wesley mused, tangling one hand in my hair. “As well as slightly hypocritical for lecturing Angel about signals.”  
“Are you ever.” I rubbed my nose against Wesley’s and planted a brief kiss on his lips.  
“I think I should be able to bear that.” Wesley murmured. “But perhaps you’d like to lecture me… somewhere else?”  
“That sounds like a fine idea.” I pulled him in for one more deep kiss, then stepped back and smoothed down my clothes, before un-mussing my hair. “You know,” I looked at Wesley meaningfully. “My car’s in the shop again. And I was thinking…” I trailed off when I saw the mortified expression break out onto Wesley’s face.  
“Oh, God.” He whispered.  
“Is that a ‘yes, Fred, I’ll give you a lift?’” I raised an eyebrow. Wesley nodded enthusiastically.  
“Good.” I smiled. “Let’s go then.”

Wesley and I walked across the lobby. We weren’t holding hands yet: no need to announce to the entire office what had happened. But as we entered the lifts, Harmony glanced over at me. Then she smiled widely and gave me a double thumbs up. I waved at her happily, stepping inside the elevator and letting the doors close.

I gave it a week before everyone in the building knew we were dating.

I calmly pressed the button for the car park and leisurely turned round to look at Wesley. “Now,” I smiled at him, casually leaning back against the wall of the elevator. “Where were we?” Wesley stepped forwards, bending over to capture my lips with his own, arms wrapping around me tightly. I shut my eyes and poured myself into the kiss.

This one more than made up for it.


	6. Wesley Learns To Take a Hint

Fred had made it painstakingly clear to me just how much of an _idiot_ I’d been for well over two weeks. How blind I’d been to all her intricately laid schemes, her master plans, her carefully orchestrated deceptions. I’d been equal parts embarrassed at my own obliviousness, and flattered that Fred thought I was worth such Machiavellian machinations. But I didn’t care how much she teased or how many times I felt the need to apologise.

 

This week had been the best of my entire life. By far. Because I’d finally been able to show Fred just how much I cared. To surprise her with small gifts or thoughtful actions that made her smile so beautifully and feel so happy. Finally, _finally_ showing the most wonderful, intelligent, beautiful woman in the world just how deeply I felt about her. And finding out that she just might feel the same way about me. And getting to kiss her in the bargain.

 

And that was discounting the deliciousness of keeping it a secret. There was something so intoxicating about sneaking around behind everyone’s backs. Acting professional and cordial in meetings, or arguing viciously over the merits of various decisions, then once away from prying eyes, pulling Fred - or more often, being pulled by Fred - into an office or a supply closet and kissing so passionately and relentlessly that I thought my head might explode. And, on the precious few afternoons or evenings we’d managed to snatch away from work, spending practically every minute together. Out for dinners or movies or walks or other forms of dating. Long, lazy kisses and tender, soft embraces. Fred truly was perfect. This whole _week_ had been perfect. And I’d been slowly learning to spot the secret meanings behind Fred’s words, the hidden hints as to what I should be doing, now that I was looking for them. I had sworn to myself that I would not be blind to what Fred wanted again: not if I could help it.

 

I re-read the messages on my phone from this morning for what was possibly the thousandth time.

 

W: Good morning sweetheart! x

 

F: Good morning Wesley! xx

 

W: How did you sleep? xxx

 

F: Like a baby! But with less crying and vomiting so maybe more like a hibernating bear? Do bears dream when they hibernate? xxxx

 

(I hadn’t been able to help but coo at the sweetness of Fred typing out one of her run-on sentences and sending it as a text)

 

W: I’m no scientist, but I doubt there’s a fundamental difference in our brain chemistries that prevents animals from dreaming… what did you dream about? xxxxx

 

F: You xxxxxx

 

W: Me? Aww. Should I be flattered? xxxxxxx

 

F: You beat me in a crossword competition. :( xxxxxxxx

 

W: Afraid for my life, then. I’m sorry, Fred. If you want I can bring some newspapers to my office and you can beat me for real when you get to work? xxxxxxxxx

 

F: I have a long, lonely morning in the lab today, unfortunately. :( Lots of samples to check and lab reports to write. I probably won’t be able to sneak upstairs until late afternoon. xxxxxxxxxx

 

W: I’ll miss you. xxxxxxxxxxx

 

F: I’ll miss you more! xxxxxxxxxxxx

 

W: That’s not possible… Agree to disagree? xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

F: For now. We can discuss it in more detail later. xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

W: I look forward to it. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

F: I know. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

W: Did you just Han Solo me? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

F: ‘Han Solo’ is not a verb. ;) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

F: Also, yes. :) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

F: (And I look forward to seeing you too, Wesley!!!xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

 

I knew I was smiling like an idiot, I knew that the people walking past me (who according to what Gunn had said just know already knew about Fred and me) were giving me aside glances and whispering to each other about me. And I was very nearly certain that Fred had left me a hint in those messages. She’d mentioned a ‘long, lonely morning’ in the lab, followed by a frown-y face. _And_ she’d mentioned lab reports: the pretext for her first truly diabolical scheme to seduce me. I was very nearly sure that Fred wanted me to keep her company in the lab today, and equally confident that she hadn’t wanted to ask directly.

 

Which was why I was loitering awkwardly on the Practical Science floor - having come here straight from Gunn’s office - directly opposite the lifts, waiting for Fred to arrive. I hope I hadn’t misjudged this. Because if I had, I might come off as clingy or over-protective or-

 

With a ping, the lift doors opened. Fred was inside. She looked, as always, absolutely radiant. Her lush, dark hair was curled slightly at the ends, tumbling past her shoulders. She was wearing a bright red, tasteful short-sleeved blouse and a long skirt (both of which did wonders for her form). Her lovely, chocolate-brown eyes were unfocused and distant, her remarkable mind clearly focused on something far away. Her forehead was slightly furrowed, her petite nose scrunched up and she was biting one lip. She looked distinctly thoughtful.

 

And as soon as she saw me, she broke into a delightfully wide smile, eyes focused on _me_ and shining. And somehow, impossibly, she became ten times more beautiful than she had been just a second ago. Fred could do that. My heart shuddered, skipped several beats, then sped into overdrive. “Hey, there!” Fred kept smiling, stepping out of the lift and walking up to me.

 

I smiled in return, taking a step towards her. “I’ve been trying to come up with an excuse to come and see you.”

Fred’s smile became coy, but her eyes never stopped shining as she slipped one hand through mine and began walking down the corridor. “And how is that working out?” Fred raised an eyebrow. 

 

I couldn’t have looked away from her if I tried. She looked so happy. _I_ was making Fred happy. “Really great. How was the journey?”

“Long and uninteresting.” Fred squeezed my hand and whispered the next few words. “Then it got a lot better.”

“Really? Why?” I smiled innocently. Fred just rolled her eyes at me. 

 

“So.” I said. “The work you have on your plate… do you think you could have it all done by, say… tomorrow afternoon?”

“Perhaps: why would I need to do that?” Fred grinned.

“Because I was hoping to take you out tomorrow night…” I squeezed Fred’s hand. “And I’d prefer you not bring any lab reports with you.”

Fred gave me a dazzling smile and asked sweetly. “Take me out where?”

I paused for a second, then whispered. “Can it be a secret?”

Fred’s smile widened. “I suppose.” She kissed me swiftly on the cheek. “But you’re setting awfully high expectations. You’d better not disappoint.”

I thought about the table I’d booked at the restaurant, the gift hidden in my apartment and the tickets stashed in my desk drawer. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

Fred grinned at me as we approached the double doors to her lab. I slowed to a stop, not letting go of her hand. Fred turned to me, expression curious. “Close your eyes.” I instructed. Fred did so, smile widening. “Now hold out your hands. And no peeking.”

Fred slipped her hand out of mine and held both of them in front of her, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She looked impossibly cute. I bent to press a swift kiss to each hand and she giggled, then I slipped one hand into my satchel, withdrew the packet I’d grabbed on my way here and gently set it down on Fred’s open palms.

 

“Can I open my eyes now?” Fred asked impatiently.

I chuckled. “Yes.” Fred opened her eyes and looked down. 

“Biscuits!” She grinned, clutching the packet of chocolate biscuits to her chest.

“Sorry they’re a bit late.” I smiled ruefully. “But I got them here eventually.”

 

Fred smiled broadly and stepped into the lab, beckoning me with one finger. I’d barely shut the door behind me when Fred tackled me into a tight hug, standing on tiptoes to put her mouth to my ear. “I love you.” Fred whispered. For the first time. 

 

So this was what perfect happiness felt like.

 

I don’t think I’d ever get used to it. To Fred.

 

I held Fred tighter, and (resisting the ridiculous urge to Han Solo her) replied. “I love you too.” Fred pulled me down into a deep, passionate kiss that left me very pleasantly dizzy. Fred calmly leaned over to swipe a lab coat off a hook by the door, shrugging into it and stuffing the packet of biscuits into one of the inside pockets.

 

I wiped some lipstick off my face and I frowned. “Do I get a lab coat?” 

Fred frowned in mock thought. “That depends: Do you have a pHD?” I scowled and she laughed, punching me gently on the shoulder. “Don’t brood, it doesn’t suit you. Plus, the jumper’s a _much_ better look for you.” I couldn’t help but smile.

“The lab coat suits you.” I informed Fred. 

She smiled wickedly. “Does it turn you on?”

“Intensely.” I replied hungrily and leaned in. Fred restrained herself to a brief kiss.

“Come on.” She said over her shoulder. “I have work to do.”

“Lab reports.” I replied dryly, following her deeper into the lab. “How…” I trailed off.

 

Positioned in the centre of the lab was a large stone sarcophagus, pointing towards Fred’s office. One end was studded with gems, surrounding a strange spiral contraption. A symbol was engraved into the middle of the lid… one I didn’t recognise at all.

 

“Interesting.” I finished, resisting the urge to roll up my sleeves as Fred and I approached it.

 

“Where did this come from?” Fred murmured, walking up closer to it. I fought off the urge to drag Fred away from it: this was her domain, and she was master of it. And yet… looking at this thing made my skin crawl. And speaking of things that make my skin crawl…

“I just found it here…” Knox emerged from out of sight, blinking in surprise as he saw me. “… when I arrived this morning. Hello, Fred. Hello, Mr Wyndam-Pryce.”

“Knox.” I inclined my head politely. I wasn’t Knox’s biggest fan by any measure, but the only real reason I had to dislike him - beyond the fact that he was an irritating, spineless, annoying employee of Wolfram and Hart - wasn’t a factor anymore. And Fred valued his assistance, so I could at least be civil to him. For her sake.

 

“Morning, Knox.” Fred frowned, still staring at the sarcophagus as she prowled around it. “No forms or anything?”

“I couldn’t find any invoice on it.” Knox bent back over the lab bench beyond the sarcophagus. Something about his tone irked me. “Thought maybe you went crazy on Ebay?”

“No. No Ebay.” Fred said glumly. “After the commemorative plate incident I’m livin’ clean.”

“Commemorative plate?” I grinned.

Fred blushed - apparently having forgotten I was behind her - and whirled to face me. “Oh it was this… really neat little thing… and I was drunk and placed a bid and then other people were bidding and I got competitive…”  
“Which was how a gaudy, silly plate ended up hanging on the wall in your office?” I supplied.

Fred went pink. “If you paid what I ended up paying for it, you’d hang it up too.” 

 

I chuckled. “Well, Ancient Relics is two floors down.” I murmured, bending over the sarcophagus. “So either somebody got the wrong floor… or this was planted here.”

“Pfft.” Fred snorted. “Planted here. Check out Mister Paranoia.”

“We work at Wolfram and Hart.” I replied.

Fred hesitated, folding her arms. “Fair point. Knox, did you run a spectral analysis?”

Knox folded his own arms behind her. “Yeah. Everything’s bouncing off it, which doesn’t thrill me.”

“Yeah, let’s not be hasty about opening it…” Fred looked down at the rune on top, then up at me. “Wesley, any idea what that means?”

“None at all.” I replied, frowning first at the rune, then at Fred over the sarcophagus. “Which is worrying.”

“It’s probably just a mummy.” Knox shrugged, walking past me to another area of the lab.

“Mummies can be a lot of trouble.” I mused. “And I really don’t like that this thing showed up, no invoice, in the middle of the night.”

 

“Not a fan either.” Fred pursed her lips, not looking away from the assortment of crystals. “Knox, can you get some of our hazmats on this thing? Maybe see about where it came from?”

“Will do.” Knox called out from behind me.

 

I looked back to Fred and my words died on my lips. She was staring directly at the crystals, not even blinking. She shifted slightly and one arm came up, beginning to reach out for them. I reached out as fast as I could to catch her arm, which had already been halfway to them. “Fred!” I hissed.

Fred blinked. “Huh? What just…” She looked at the crystals suspiciously. “Sorry… I just felt an urge to…”

“Touch them?” I questioned. Fred nodded, withdrew her arm and frowned. “I think they might be enchanted, Fred.”

“Looks like.” Fred nodded, frowning. “I vote we stay back, keep everyone away from it and wait for our hazmats to-”

 

I felt a blinding pain in the back of my head and stumbled forwards, bracing myself against the sarcophagus as I heard a cracking sound from behind me. A part of me dimly registered that it was my head. I stumbled around, vision blurry.

 

Knox. 

 

His eyes were cold and determined, hefting a large microscope in both hands. A microscope which he’d _hit_ me with, which he was swinging back to-

 

I brought my hands up too slowly to stop him hitting me a second time, the heavy microscope crashing into my temple and sending me crumpling to the ground. Knox let go of it casually and it sailed down towards me, crunching into my chest. My vision was flashing with stars, I felt weak and dizzy, and _very_ incapable of moving. What on earth was Knox doing?

 

“Wesley!” I heard Fred gasp, then her tone became murderous. “Knox, what the _hell are you doing?”_

“Fulfilling your _destiny_.” I heard footsteps walking away from me. “Don’t fight it.” At the word ‘destiny’ I felt new strength flood into my limbs, and gripped a ridge on the sarcophagus, stumbling to my feet. Destiny was never good.

 

Fred was bleeding from a wound on her temple. Knox had her arms pinned at her sides, remaining hand gripping the back of her head as he shoved her towards the jewels around the sarcophagus. NO! I stumbled towards them, readying myself to beat Knox to within an inch of hisworthless life.

 

Then take that inch.

 

Fred managed to work one of her arms free of Knox’s grip and slam her elbow into his stomach. Knox doubled up, wheezing, and Fred was suddenly out of his grip, stepping around him and slamming his face down into the sarcophagus with a deeply satisfying crunch. His forehead slammed directly into one of the crystals and he yelled in pain, gasping for breath… Just as the spiral formation in the centre of the sarcophagus opened, letting out a rush of air. Knox got a lungful and began coughing relentlessly, stumbling back, eyes panicked. “No!” He yelled, eyes darting around. “NO!” Fred responded by punching him in the face. Knox crumpled to the ground in a gangly heap.

 

I finally managed to reach them, head still spinning. “Fred, are you alright?” I demanded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Fred’s eyes darted over me. “How are you? Wesley, your _head_ …”

“I’m a bit dizzy.” I mumbled, feeling myself sway and putting one hand on my head as Fred reached out with both arms to steady my shoulders. “I’ll be fine in a few moments. What the hell just happened?”

“No idea.” Fred looked away from me to glare down at Knox. “But judging from the look on his face when he breathed in that gas… well, I’m glad you took my hint to come down here.”

“So am I, Fred.” I hugged Fred tightly. “So am I.” 


End file.
